Lateshoes

I really want to like the bus. I really do. But, with my bus driver’s *GAS!* BREAK!*GAS!*BREAK!*GAS!*BREAK!* driving strategy and the guy behind me hacking then slurping. Hacking then slurping. Hack. Slurp. Hack. Slurp….gah! and don’t even get me started on watching a grown man pick his nose and wipe it on the seat in front of me. Oh and I can’t forget the all important greasy hair imprints on the windows. I just don’t know. Would being in debt and owning a car really be so bad?

The Howard Hughes in me, says no.

My shoes came in the mail yesterday. THEE shoes. The wedding shoes. Look, I never wear “heels” ok…and so, I only have one question: how the fucking fuck do people wear these fucking things??

They’re pinchy, they’re slippery, they clip-clop like pony feet and they make me walk like a bad drag queen.

All that said, they’re “hella” cute and I think I love them. I know they’re going to look awesome with my dress. Ahh, these are complicated times.

Ok, I’ve just stopped laughing long enough to start typing. If you’ve never read Dooce…you should. You won’t be sorry. My nostrils have seen more diet dr. pepper than they ever wished to, thanks to her smart, smart ass. I never knew that reading the phrase, “eating the pink taco” would make me laugh uncontrollably for the better part of an hour. ahhhhhhhhhhhhh. Alas. *she’s also a fellow salt laker. I’m so proud.

I took Stanley to the vet this morning for his second set of shots. He was almost good during the car ride there. There was that one unfortunate bite I received while trying to give the little fucker a goddamn treat, for fuck sake. Sigh. Oh well. He’s taken to growling at me, biting my skirt and untying my shoes when we go for walks now. It’s really charming because at some point I’ll bend down to re-tie them and he will begin a full-chomp assault on my knuckles, leading me to shove him off repeatedly, prompting him to yelp, which just makes all the neighbors think I beat him. We have a really healthy relationship. Luckily, BITCH SCHOOL starts on Monday. I’m not looking forward to being the mommy of the little bastard dog who sets a bad example for all of the nice puppies.

We’re taking Stannibal to St. George with us for the weekend. We’re planning the big, “we’re getting married!” reveal for Lars’ parents, which quite frankly has me feeling a bit antsy. I love them and I think they like me …so it’s not that I’m nervous…it’s just the thought of all the attention and seriously…(just between you and me) I feel like I’ve told the same story like 12 million times already. Honestly, I wanted to tell them over the phone weeks ago, but Lars thought it would be better in person, so I deferred to his manly of manliness. I’m sure it will all go well.

I’ve been a total knitting slack ass, but I swear I’ll try to do better.

I can’t seem to drag my ass to work. I woke up with a bit of a headache and I don’t think watching and listening to the inauguration banter is helping one bit.

By 6:30 this morning I had cleaned up puke, pee and a steamy pile of crap, I figure my day can only come down from there, so I’m deciding now whether to just give up.

1. I finished and mailed the scarf for my sister.

2. I booked the ceremony/ reception site for September 10, 2005. No turning back now…we’ve totally spent money.

3. I mailed in a check and registration form for Stanley to go to “Bitch School.”

4. I actually did some work at work.

5. I started “working on my arms.”

6. I watched the Veronica Mars pilot rerun…and I’m really starting to love that show.

7. I had a totally sweet parallel parking moment.

8. I printed out the current guest list, so we could start chopping.

9. I made dinner.

10. Stanley just might get a much needed bath when I finish this.

Yeah, so I’m watching Maury Povitch…what of it?

I have been so disgustingly remiss in my blogging this month that I actually felt guilty, like I’ve been skipping class or something.

I’m finding that my obsessive personality and planning a wedding are very funny bed fellows. I have watched EVERY damn wedding show on TLC and Oxygen (I’ve even started using comcast’s new ON DEMAND feature to watch EVERY wedding related television show known to man). We’re talking hours people! Hours of me sitting on the futon in my underwear wth pen and paper sketching gowns, writing down the names of designers, names of flowers, and hoping and praying that I don’t turn into a psycho mega-bitch in white on my big day.

I’m fairly certain that I won’t be calling my mom an idiot or telling my dad to “get the fuck out!” (Dudes, these wedding shows are awesome, I’m telling you) So, I’m already one step ahead of the wedding crazies.

I got my dress!!! I took my closest girlfriends to “Fantasy Bridal”…(they don’t mean to humiliate us, by making us say such things, really). The second dress I tried on sent all of us into a fit or “ooooooo’s” and “ahhhhhhh’s.” I was even impressed with myself, which is really saying something. After being told I was “busty” several times, this adorable older lady referred to me as having a “tiny waist.” ME! TINY. WAIST. I don’t know that I’ve ever heard those words in reference to myself before, but I would hear them again several times while wearing and ordering this dress. It’s plain, strapless and chiffon. Yep, strapless and I didn’t even feel like a big armed bubba. Here it is…only, mine doesn’t have the sparkly beads and I’m not a ten foot tall snake

Ok, so getting engaged has officially turned me into a crazy, crazy girl. I spend most of my days looking at almost-perfect dresses, thinking if only it had this or that. I’m disgusting. I’m realizing that maybe I should just get some free weights and start working on my arms, so I can just go strapless and stop fretting about how ugly they make sleeves on wedding gowns. Seriously…TWO choices, people. You can either have the t-shirt like sleeves (totally unflattering on yours truly and might be weather inappropriate for our wedding as well) or loooooooooooooooooong sheer, poet-like, Rivendell-ish, Mirkwood-like, Lothlorien style butterfly arms. Alright and when being honest in my nerdy heart of hearts…I’m a little tempted…but, I don’t think “fat, medieval elf” is the look I’m going for. Would it kill someone to make a slightly bell shaped sheer sleeve?? WOULD IT???

Here is my dream dress!! Here’s the problem…this dress is made by a designer in Scotland who will only make the dress for you, if you can come in for sittings. Sigh. I seriously covet this thing, but it’s unattainable. The only thing I can think of is to find a very simple, a-line strapless dress and hope that I can find a seamstress/seamster (a little too close to teamster if you ask me) to make me something like that sheer top (sans the fucking awesome flower sadly). If anyone knows a great person of sewing who could make such an item…I’m all ears.

Do you see how pathetic I’ve become??

Look, see I told you I’ve been knitting.

So. busy.

It’s my best friend’s 30th birthday today and we’re both feeling mighty old. I get my ring back tomorrow (it’s being re-sized and I don’t know if I’m going to make it much longer without “my precious”). Stanley went to the vet last night for his first set of shots and he was so good that I got him a cheeseburger. My sister’s scarf is about half-way finished (and I swear I’m going to post a photo). Work is… how do I say this politely?… draining right now. I had to write a beggy-type letter to the owner of our building yesterday, hoping she’ll remember that she’s a human being and let us stay in our apartment. I started reading this fantastic Dorothy Parker biography last night called, “What fresh hell is this?” … it’s awesome, I highly recommend it…if you’re a biography geek (and Dorothy Parker fan) like me. Oh…and because I love you guys…I found this awesome collage of pictures of G.W. and monkeys. Enjoy!

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