You oughta be in pictures!

I get my proofs back today. I'm glad to have them to look over while the whole crew is down for turkey day. I just hope that they are better than some of my pictures from the honeymoon. For instance the photos from the Horseback Ride and Swim where my blindingly white cellulite ridden thighs are contrasted against the dark brown horse. Why are those in the album again?

Geek Bride and the incredibly messy house on Excaliber Drive.

Where the hell have I been? In the kitchen and the living room trying to sort out my life.

There's the crap I didn't get to cleaning before the wedding that was stacked and shoved and hidden. There's the Honeymoon detrius, dirty clothes, clean clothes, keepsakes, pictures, and ziploc bags of personal items. There's the stuff from the wedding, the leftover bubbles, favors, programs, and of course the gifts. And there is always the stuff that doesn't care if you're married or not: dirty clothes you wore to work, dirty towels, groceries, junk mail, halloween decorations, wal mart bags, and the never ending tide of dirty dishes. So forgive me if i'm not dying to fill you all in on the wedding and honeymoon just yet. Right now i'm just dying to wake up one morning to find the Newlywed Faerie has come and sorted things into organized, clean piles. Or made it all disappear into the front yard where Pak-R can sort it out come Friday.

So how was it?

It was great. It was amazing. It was so much fun. It was over so fast.

It was worth every penny, every sleepless night, every napless afternoon.

It was the greatest thing since sliced bread (sliced bread having been invented the previous winter). It was the cat's meow. It kicked ass. It took names. It was so much fun.

It was perfect and imperfect. It was strange but totally natural. It was murder on my feet.

It was great. It was amazing. It was so. Much. Fun.

It was over so, so fast.

I believe I was promised a rose garden...

As anyone who has ever planned a wedding knows it isn't always Skittles and beer. In fact it's more like pickled eggs and moonshine. Here's a list of the things that have gone wrong, or are crappy or are giving me a migraine as we speak.

1. We have about 15 people who don't know what "The favor of a reply is requested on or before October 7, 2006." and a self-addressed stamped envelope mean. If you can't make it fine. I will understand, for the most part. But let me know. Tonight I have to sit down and call these people and see if they will decide to come to this big party with the jazz band and the free food and the little boxes of toffee they can take home at the end of the night. At least we'll be milking the last little bit of airtime out of our Alltell contract.
2. Between my stress levels and Josh's new antidepressants we aren't exactly acting like a happy couple. Don't get me wrong, we are getting along fine and still want to marry each other, but it's not all kissy kissy lovey goo goo at The Incredibly Messy House on Excaliber Drive.
3. Speaking of which, I am rapidly running out of time to clean the house for the wedding. My freind/bridesmaid Xiangtang is staying with me the night before the wedding because i'm a little pussy who is scared to spend the night alone. Even though we live in a very safe, quiet subdivison on the edge of town. Plus my other bridesmaids and my mom etc. are dressing at the house so the photographer and videographer will be there to get those super cool dressing-for-the-big-day shots. I would freaking die if the mess was preserved in my wedding album. Thankfully next Monday and Tuesday is Fall Break and my wonderful boss has given me those days off. Hopefully I will be able to either clean up the mess or hide it. Then I can move on to...
4. Packing for the honeymoon. I've never been on a cruise before so I have only a vague idea of what to pack. I know I will need summer clothes since it's warm in the Bahamas, and i'm sure i'll need dressy clothes, but i'm not sure how many. And can Josh bring his PS2? Should I bring the travel iron? What type of things will freak out Homeland Security? Are they going to toss out my embroidery scissors? Or is that just on a plane? Do we need a garment bag? I know i'm probablly overthinking this, I overthink what to bring to a weekend at my parent's house. But then I can convince myself that they have the same things that I need for survival: deodorant, shampoo, OTC meds, and if they don't Wal-Mart is just a drive away. In this case whatever I forget I have to buy on the ship at three times the cost.
5. Speaking of the ship, what if I freak out? You're reading the musings of a woman who once got off a taxi-ing plane in Las Vegas because of a panic attack, forcing Josh and I to drive back to Greenville. Yes you read that correctly. We drove from Las Vegas to Greenville, North Carolina. And we didn't kill each other or break up or anything. But if I freak out on this ship once it leaves Port Canaveral my only way off is in a metal cage lifted by the Coast Guard. I am comforted by the fact that a cruise ship recently pulled into port with a dead sperm whale stuck at the bow and the ship was so big they didn't even notice. Anything that large will not go crazy in a storm and will take a while to sink. But i'm more worried about feeling confined and freaking out over that. Our room has a window so I doubt it will be a problem but I can never tell. That's why it's called an anxiety disorder. It doesn't make sense. At least this time I have some Klonopin. If I had had my little pink freinds two years ago our little incident on the plane could have been avoided. But then we wouldn't have the memories...
6. Of course all this pre-wedding stuff is to be expected. What isn't expected is the amount of flaking people have pulled recently. My Mother and one of my Aunts had a fight a couple of months ago. My Aunt was being a butthead and my mom called her on it. Well rather than getting over it, or putting aside her anger for one day my aunt and uncle have decided not to come to the wedding. So she's still being a butthead, I am kinda mad at her since part of her buttheadedness was talking smack about me, I am completely on my mom's side in this and I know I should say to hell with it. But I do love my aunt and wish she would come to the wedding. I know i'm always going to be sad that she wasn't there even if she brought it on herself. Then there's the matter of my Dad's freind Don. I grew up with Don being around, he was at Thanksgiving last year, he's a special freind of the family. But rather than come to the wedding he's going to a motorcycle show to try and sell some bikes. Now I know this is his livlihood and chances are he had to pay his seller fee in advance of our getting engaged, so i'm trying hard not to be mad. But i'm definately upset that he won't be there to share our day.
7. Finally, ten days before the wedding, I have lost a bridesmaid. Yes, this deserves it's own number. I chose my girls from my closest freinds. I don't have many freinds. I have my sister as maid of honor, natch. I remember when we lived in the old house and she was in a crib in the same room as me. And the time when we both went as black cats for Halloween. I remember her unfortunate Dorothy Hamill haircut, and she remembers my even more unfortunate perm. Then Linda and Xiangtang. I have known them since 1999 when I first came to Greenville. We were the Greenville Girls together. Xiangtang left a few years ago to get her masters degree and is now working on her PhD. But she still keeps in touch and visits when she comes down. Linda and I have been each other's support system forever. She moved with her husband an hour away a couple of months ago, but I still hear from her every week or so. We call each other for advice and to vent. She's taking care of our cats while we're on the honeymoon. I bought her dress for her since she couldn't afford it when it needed to be ordered. Stephanie and I met on the Silver bus about three years ago and realized we were in the same French class. She is the ultimate gal pal. We went shopping together, ate mexican food constantly (seriously, the manager at Mazatlan knew us by name and what we ordered) and since moving to Memphis for her MFA we have had many four hour phone conversations. I picked these four because they have been there for a long time and they are true freinds. I don't understand people who lop off one side of the attendants or fill it in with warm bodies. Taht's not what it's about. So anyway, when I heard from Stephanie yesterday that she didn't have the money to make it to the wedding, I was pretty upset. I'm trying to understand because we've been broke as a damn joke lately, but it's been seven months. It seems like she could have made sure this was going to work out. But as I told my mom in an email this morning I have too many other things to work on and worry about to waste energy being mad. As with my aunt and Don I think i'll always be kinda sad that she wasn't there, but it's out of my hands, so Onward and Upward.

Yes, I would like some cheese with these whines. A nice Parmesan if you have it. Or a smoked Gouda.

I've tried hard to be a good bride. I've not forced my bridesmaids to loose weight or buy dyed shoes. I haven't told Josh he has to pick four out of six of his freinds for groomsmen so the lines will be even. I haven't complained about gifts people have bought us that were'nt from the registry. (Why would I? I can either use them or take them back.) I'm caught up with my thank you notes. I haven't been rude or demanding to my vendors. I didn't even cut Josh's cousin like I said I would. Unless our headcount is ungodly her boyfreind can come. I'll smile and shake his hand in the receiving line. In the end I know it's all about the covenant that Josh and I are entering into. So I know that it will all work out. It will be wonderful and fun and one of the happiest days of my life. I'm sure the work and time and money will all be worth it. But right now I'm stressed and just a little cranky. After seven months of good behavior and everything going on, I think i've earned it.

The rules of engagement

A few things i'd like to remind everyone of:

1. DO NOT write a person in on your response card. If you cannot be away from this person for an evening at least call the person issuing the invitation and ASK if they may be able to squeeze them in. And be prepared for a no.

2. The person who stuffed those 100 envelopes took the time and money to stamp your response card. Send it in. Through the mail. Don't bring it by the house. We can't steam off the stamps with the space age adhesive the postal service uses these days, so just give us the satisfaction of seeing them canceled.

3. If you loose the response card draw a line down a 4x6 index card put a postcard stamp on it and mail it in. If that is just too hard, call and let them know. Don't wait until they are calling you the day before the headcount deadline to say you are/are not coming.

4. Send in the card even if "they know we're coming". Yes, but that's how we figure out how many people we need food for.

Anyone see a theme in these gripes?

And finally,

5. Please refrain from talking about a recently deceased person at a bridal shower. Especially if the Bride to Be was sobbing the loudest at the funeral. Don't say things like "You remind me so much of Judy" or "Judy took her dying better than anyone" or "She had such a peace about it" or "Well we know that cancer doesn't look at your age". These things will make her cry. Hard. And when her fiance finds out it will infuriate him. Then next thing you know you are in your front yard at midnight with a shoe up your ass wondering what you did to piss off this guy who bears a striking resemblence to Weird Al back when he had the beard and glasses. If you are desperate to talk about something ask her about the details of the wedding. And if you can't do that SHUT YOUR PIE HOLE!!!

People these things are common sense and common decency. I shouldn't have to implore you to do these things via a blog that's only read by my mom and my sister, because come on.

(At left, even Grover is embarassed for you! I love you Grover!)

Don't make me cut you.

I'll cut ya. I'll cut you up so bad you won't believe how bad I cut you up!

As you can probably tell, i'm a little furious. Why? Someome wrote in a guest on their response card.

Yes, it is a big deal. It is a big fucking deal.

People of earth, this is not some pay for your own plate get together at Applebees. This is a very expensive and painstakingly planned event. You CAN NOT go inviting people yourself. Did I write their name on the envelope? Then they aren't invited. And if you can't be away from them for one evening, you need therapy.

Hopefully this will be taken care of tomorrow and without bloodshed. Because i'm not budging on this ever. And I will not dig deeper for someone I don't know from Adam and reinforce their rudeness. I have too much of my mother in me to lay down and take some rude ass mother fucking bullshit like this.

Ha HA! Fight Lupus!

As some of you may know, my betrothed suffers from Systemic Lupus. For those of you who don't know what Lupus is, the short version is that it's a condition where your body's autoimmune system attacks your soft tissues. Ususally this leads to painful joints, skin rashes and even inflamed organs. It's chronic, serious and no one knows why this happens. Josh has been very lucky. His intial flare was diagnosed fairly quickly and his symptoms have been brought under control. He's basically in remission but it could flare at anytime. Others aren't so lucky. Sometimes it takes years to get a diagnosis. Especially if you are an unusual case. Lupus mainly affects African American women, then men, then white women and finally white men. So Josh is really weird from a medical stand point.

So now that i've depressed you are you wanting to help?

Awesome.

Classic Checks has designed special checks and address labels that help the Lupus Foundation of America. 10% of the cost of the checks will go to the LFA. They feature pretty butterflies, since many with Lupus develop a "butterfly rash" on the face. (Josh never got the rash on his face. Go figure.) So if you're in the market for pretty checks, address labels, contact cards or a check book cover give these a look. It may save my hubby's life one day. (See how I guilted you there at the end? Now you can't say no!)

Welcome back Jules.

Well Jules came home last night. And he's doing much better. He was the happiest cat i've ever seen. In fact, he could hardly contain himself. Or, more acurately, he couldn't contain himself. He peed in the carrier on the way home. He peed as he got out of the carrier and onto the bed. Then he peed on the bedskirt and carpet. I think he was trying to show me he didn't need to go back to the vet. So last night was spent loving on our kitty, washing linens (again, I did them Sunday) and going to petsmart to get enzyme urine cleaner. Life is back to normal.

Come home Jules...

Josh and I have four cats. Or, if you hit us at the right time, four little bastards who are destined for the sausage factory. Of course like children, no matter how much stuff they tear up, or pee on or puke on, or scratch us, we sorta love them. So this weekend went from normal to craptacular in 12 hours when Jules had a recurrence of his UTI.

He's been fighting this thing for about a month. After his second round of antibiotics failed to make a big difference, I wound up at the vet Saturday morning for a walk in appointment. The dr. managed to get some urine out of him and announced that Jules had crystals in his urine. They gave him new antibiotics, liquid pain meds and a special diet aimed at dissolving the crystals. Then he told me that Jules needed to be watched carfully. If he didn't urinate at all in a space of twelve hours we were to bring him in right away. If he had a urinary blockage the urine could back up into his kidneys and make them fail.

So I set off for home with my panic meter at an 11. Once home we got the meds into Jules and confined him to my bathroom with his own box. Thus Urine Watch 2006 began. About every half hour I would peek in and find him straining to go. He threw up his special food. The box remained painfully dry. At 10:15 pm I paged the vet on call. For the second time that day Jules was shoved in his carrier and loaded into the car. Only this time I was freaking the fuck out.

I had no way of knowing what if anything was in his little urethra. Was it blocked? How bad? Was urine backing up as I sped down 14th street daring a cop to pull me over? Was he going to keel over dead? Does Petsmart carry the Happy Time Harry Dialysis Machine? I smell urine, but I didn't hear any hitting the plastic. Did I just imagine that? I did. Ok. GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY WAY IDIOT!!! I HAVE A SICK ANIMAL IN MY CAR!!!

When we arrived and met with the dr. she filled us in. After much effort to make Jules pee she figured his crystals had turned into a blockage. However since he was still awake and moving around the odds of him having any permanent damage at this point were slim.

So what Jules needed was a catherder. To put this in a cat required anasthesia. He would have this for two days. On Monday night they would take it out and if he was peeing normally they would send him home on Tuesday. This thrilling and life saving vacay at beautiful 10th Street Animal Hospital would cost us $400-500 dollars. Not counting the $118 I had spent earlier that morning. So we left Jules with the nice lady to stick a tube up his tukas and hope for the best. I spent the rest of the night pouty, praying for my baby to be ok, and trying not to cry. I also repeatedly assured Josh that we would come up with the money to pay the vet, even if it meant I had to whore myself out to all of Camelot. (Not that Josh would have said it's too expensive, we're not doing it. He adores our kitties as much as I do and would whore himself out if need be. But we take turns worrying about money and it was his turn.)

The next morning the doc called us with an update. The cath had gone in fine and they had emptied Jules' bladder. The urine was pretty gritty so it's a good thing we took him in when we did. He was getting his meds by injection and was pretty pissed, but he would be fine.

So we're just waiting for tomorrow night to see how he does with out the cath. I can't wait to have my little fluffy guy back home chasing bugs, tormenting Chloe and tossing Wally's salad. All this has taught me two things:

1. Listen to your gut. I had a mother's intuition that Jules wasn't right all last week. He just wasn't himself. Saturday I said fuck it. I know he's sick. I'm glad I did.

2. I should probablly go ahead and get my tubes tied. If this is how I react with a sick cat i'll need Thorazine to deal with a sick child.

Mommy loves you Jules!

Two months and counting.

It seems so close and yet so far away. What do you mean the big stuff is taken care of? I just started this whole thing. It's only been five months, geez. And I have a lot to do. Programs, details, wrap gifts, pass ports, loose five pounds.

Two more months. And four and a half years of shacking up becomes legal. We start over with a clean slate. But it seems like a shame to wipe those five years away. A lot has happened. My cat died, Josh's dog died, we bought a house, his grandmother died, he graduated college, I went from psychology to interior design to interior merchandising to not knowing what the fuck i'm doing, Linda got married, he got a Master's degree, he spent a hellish seven months working retail, his mom died of cancer. She died. Of cancer. There are no words for that.

The woman we hired to play violin at the ceremony suggested that before the processional she play a special song, usually for the mother of the bride. My mom, always with a good idea, came up with this one:


This Is a Day of New Beginnings

This is a day of new beginnings,
time to remember and move on,
time to believe what love is bringing,
laying to rest the pain that's gone.
For by the life and death of Jesus,
love's mighty Spirit, now as then,
can make for us a world of difference,
as faith and hope are born again.
Then let us, with the Spirit's daring,
step from the past and leave behind
our disappointment, guilt, and grieving,
seeking new paths, and sure to find.
Christ is alive, and goes before us
to show and share what love can do.
This is a day of new beginnings;our God is making all things new.

-Brian Wren, 1978

This is hella perfect. It just says it all.

Now I just need to call the violinist and see if she can play this, and if it's ok to move it in the ceremony to before the vows, and let the minister know and print the words in the program...

Who's retarded now!

Ok people. If you have ever found me funny you must go see Talledaga Nights. The humor redeemed a shitty fucking day yesterday (car fucked up, battery died, working on it in 100 degree heat, late for the movie, poured down rain as we got to the theatre) and redeemed Will Farrell in my eyes for Bewitched. (Josh had forgiven him with Anchorman, but I haven't seen that one yet.) Anyway, we are now having a nacho fountain and a Styx cover band at the wedding.

Portrait of a Bride II coming soon and after Bridezillas tonight i'm sure i'll have a rant about this Milena chick.

Shake and Bake!

Portrait of a bride Part I

I awoke last Tuesday, the morning of my bridal portriat, at 7:00 and heard rain outside. My immediate thought was that my hair was going to flop. My second thought was that I had hoped to take pictures out side. Fuck.

I had "slept" the night before in pink foam rollers trying to get my hair to take a curl. Of course if you have ever tried to do this, you know it is nearly impossible to sleep in foam rollers. So I was ill rested, wide awake and already mildly freaked.

So I got up and put my bathrobe on. A facial mask and some fuzzy slippers would have completed the ensemble and I would have been perfectly attired to run to Piggly Wiggly for some smokes and a Diet Coke.

While Josh slept I began painting my nails while watching In Search Of on SciFi. Not the old good ones from the '70s narrated by Leonard Nimoy, the new cheesy ones hosted by Mitch Peleggi, or A.D. Skinner on the X-files.

I had bought a french manicure kit since I don't get my nails done, so I spent about 20 minutes making sure the little stickers were on right then painted my tips white. I let them dry, peeled off the stickers and put some pink on. The results? Meh...

I redid four of them because the white had run under the sticker and wasn't clean enough for me. So I redid those and they still didn't look right.

So then I moved on to getting Josh up (about 9:30 now) and unrolling my hair to see if the curl took. It didn't.

And that was when I began to take bets on how long before I needed a Klonopin.

I rewashed my hair and rerolled it in smaller peices. Then it occured to me that I needed a laundry steamer since my gown had been in the bag for the last few months.

My Matron of Honor has a laundry steamer she bought for her wedding and I had planned on borrowing hers, but forgot to call the day before. So the hunt for Linda began.

I called her at home and on her cell phone. No answer. I called back and left a message on each. Thankfully she called me back right away. She and her husband are moving at the end of August and were an hour away looking for a place to live. So I handed the phone to Josh so she could tell him where the steamer was. (No way am I leaving the house looking like I did.) I drew him a picture of the thing and he set off.

Quit bitching about your list.

This post is pretty superfluous. Just read the title. But in case you have a few minutes to kill...

One of the things i've noticed on shows like Bridezillas, Whose Wedding is it Anyway, etc. and various other wedding outlets is constant bitching about The List.

"I have list of things to do a mile long!"

"I'll never finish everything on my list!"

"My list just keeps growing!"

You know what? Chicken butt. You and everyone else.

My list is huge and ranges from big tasks like getting passports to little things like buying candy for my bridesmaids gifts. But do I create?

Let's have a reality check here. You're planning a wedding. The typical wedding in the US takes six months to a year to plan and costs an average of $20,000. Of course you're going to have a lot to do. It comes with the territory. Accept it!

And if it is really that overwhelming you have two choices: simplify or delegate.

Do you really need to do place cards for a buffet reception? No, not really. Do you really have to compare prices on bulk Jordan Almonds at ten different websites? No. Pick four or five and roll with it. Must you have the printed cocktail napkins? No. No one remembers those anyway.

And if you can't cut down your list that way, delegate! That's why you have a bridal party.

WAIT!!! STOP RIGHT THERE!!!!

Let me clear before you leap from you computer to dump 50 pounds of Jordan Almonds, a bolt of tulle and 1000 yards of ribbon on your Maid of Honor's doorstep and speed away into the night.

When you delegate, YOU ASK. NICELY!!!

"Sarah, could you please help me with these favors? I have so much to do, I would really appreciate it."

How hard is that? And be genuine about it. If you really veiw your MOH as a work mule she'll know and be doubly insulted at your cloying.

So be nice, be genuine about your appreciation. And respect the time of your bridal party. They have kids, jobs, hobbies, in other words A Life. And that can't screech to a halt to tie favors for you for the next two months. Set a limit. 25 or 50 each is plenty for anybody unless they have a tulle fetish.

And if you are recently engaged start early. If you are behind start now! Don't underestimate how long some of these things take. The List is really your freind. It will keep you on task to finish things in plenty of time.

But all in all, quit your bitching. Be thankful for what you have. A wonderful fiance, a bridal party of your closest freinds and big special day to celebrate your marriage. In the grand scheme of things is The List really that big a deal?

Shelayna

So Shelayna and Bart's saga wrapped up last night. Before I begin though, I must say one thing. The past two seasons of Bridezillas has sucked. I love the first season. I could watch it over and over again. I love the music, the classy weddings, the fruity announcer. It rocked. But these last two seasons have been awful. Most of the girls are so far from bridezilla territory it's laughable, the music is horrid, and I wish a slow painful death on the announcer. Anyway...

My overall impression of Shelayna (yes that is her name and yes that is how you spell it) was that she needed a Xanax smoothie fast. Why? Well, her fiance Bart has the mind of a five year old. He annoyed the hell out of me. And if I had to hear her say "Bart" in that nagging/whining tone again I was going to have to strangle her.

I know that opposites are supposed to attract and that someone free spirited can help someone too serious lighten up and they can help the other be more grounded, but not in this case. This time they are too opposite and will only suceed in annoying the piss out of each other and everyone around them.

Bart just didn't seem right. He proposed as she got out of the shower? The balancing stuff on his chin? The freeballing in his tux???? Even Josh was grossed out/stupefied by that one. What the fuck? You can't wear underwear on you wedding day? And Josh isn't a stuffed shirt. He wears khakis that have had the bottoms walked off and t-shirts that need to go into the rag pile and even he couldn't believe the freeballing. That boy ai'nt right.

And Shelayna is everything I don't want to be. Late, annoyed at my intended, stressed to the point of tears and yelling. Somebody get her a Klonopin, or a beer or a Tylenol PM. Anything to take the edge off.

However, I can see her being super upset at Bart's brother and his pocket full of beer at the rehearsal. That's ten kinds of wrong. I'm no Puritan, but you don't drink in church. Especially at the altar during a wedding rehearsal!!! Again, those boys ai'nt right.

Over all I don't think Shelayna was a bridezilla. She just needed a tranquilizer and a grown man to marry rather than a child. Here's hoping that most of it was an act for the cameras.

What i've been up to...

• 
  What i've been doing in the past week since my last post:
  
  Working on my first Mirabilia pattern
  Working on my bridesmaids gifts
  Working
  Trying to keep our house clean
  Neglecting the back yard
  Being attacked by a cricket in the attic as I pulled down the ladder causing me to drop it on myself and wind up with a nasty bruise
  Referring to the bruise as "the Chupacabra bite"
  Kinda liking Paris Hilton's song
  Hating myself for liking Paris Hilton's song
  Celebrating a my birthday with my parents
  Celebrating Josh's new job
  Having my bridal portrait done
  Watching Bridezillas. Sorry, Briiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiidezillas!
  Reading the recaps of Bridezillas
  Planning a series of posts on the Bridezillas
  Making the switch from Effexor to Cymbalta
  Coping with the change in sleep that has come from that change
  Making Josh watch weird, gross and creepy X-Files (Chaco Chicken anyone?)
  Lusting after David Duchovny (Mmmmmmm....)
  Treating Josh's wart, which is huge and speaks German
  Nervously counting the days until the Big Day
  Planning the rehearsal dinner
  
  And finally,
  
  Setting the above picture as my wallpaper at work where it makes me laugh everytime
  
  Post about the BP coming. What a story that was...

Woo Hoo! We Win!!!

No, not the NC lottery. But after shacking up for almost four years North Carolina just made it legal! You thrush your pelvis, ugh! You thurst your plevis, ugh!

I love it when asinine laws are struck down!

Geeks rule.

As anyone reading this blog knows there is a lot of shit slung about gamers and geeks in general. Too often we are charecterized as paranoid malcontents, weirdos, obsessives, 40 year old virgins and children in adult bodies. Our interests are regarded as foolish, strange, boring, and if your interest is video games, potentially lethal. (Confidential to Jack Thompson: Go fuck yourself.)

But what do they know? Fucktards. And next time anyone wants to give you shit ask them if they heard about the World of Warcraft guild that saved a cancer patient from financial ruin.

That's damn fine tea you have here in Atlantic Beach. Damn good fries too.

The following is a list of unbride-like things I consumed this weekend:

One Bojangles country ham biscuit on the way out of town.
Several Butterfinger flavored Chewy Granola Bars.
Two baskets of hushpuppies and butter.
North Carolina blue crab meat panned in butter.
Stringbeans cooked with country ham.
Fries.
Sweet tea.
A mint chocolate chip milkshake.
White chocolate macadamia nut cookies.
A Cubbies Cheeseburger with Freedom fries (insert eyeroll here.)
More sweet tea.
Beef Jerky.
8 oz. sirloin cooked meduim well with A-1.
Baked potato.
More fries and sweet tea.
Three slabs of fudge from the Beaufort Fudge Factory (in peanut butter, chocolate and butter pecan).
A 1/3 pound cheeseburger from Finz with, you guessed it, fries and sweet tea.
Many, many pouches of Capri Sun.

It's a good thing my mom is small like me. That way in 8 days when my bridal portrait is done she can hide behind my skirt and hold my bodice closed.

Breakin' the law! Breakin' the law!

As of Saturday my driver's license is expired. Today I am booked solid (not really, but until 5:00 when the DMV closes) so I guess tomorrow I will go to the DMV and wait until my next birthday to renew my license. Until then I plan on driving the exact speed limit, always using my turn signals (which I do anyway) and feigning ignorance if I do get pulled.

But what really irritates me about all this is that in three months I will have to go and have my name changed on my license. So more money to the DMV and another hellish wait.

Now I am the queen of saying that "it's just a thing" and not a big deal. And this isn't really a big deal. But it's a small annoying deal worthy of a Sideshow Bob stepping on multiple rakes grumble.

Who's cravin' Morehead? Apparently I am.

This Saturday I turned the the big 2-5. Now my age can be expressed in quaters of centuries. So to celebrate Josh and I went to the happiest place on earth.

No, not Disneyland/world. Atlantic Beach, NC. And the neighbor towns of Morehead City and Beaufort. Technically we went to Morehead City and visited Atlantic Beach and Beaufort. Why? Well, someone forgot to make hotel reservations in time to stay at our usual hotel. Possibly while high. Cypress Hill i'm looking in your direction.

Anyway, for the next few days I will be posting about all the ways one can geek out/nerd it up at the beach. There are more than you may think.