that'll be nine million dollars...

ouch.

so here is the dilemma. jason and i are paying for the wedding (and all it implies*) ourselves. well, lets be perfectly honest, i'm unemployed so jason is paying for the wedding (and all it implies*) himself. (i love you dear.)

with every check we write, vendor we confirm, and bill we receive jason's heart breaks just a little bit. you see, he (and i) want nothing more than to be able to buy our very own house and start our very own family.

we've already taken a lot of the common wedding on a budget tips to heart. we're hosting our shin-dig on a sunday, we're serving only beer and wine, and we're avoiding the typical (and costly and almost always overrated) sit down dinner by serving only heavy hors d'oeuvers. the thing is we want our family and friends (many of which will have to travel to the exotic and exciting city of cleveland for the affair) to not only have a great time, but to feel loved and appreciated - - after all weddings are quite costly for everyone involved.

so where do we draw the line when it comes to the wedding (also referred to by many as the most important day of our lives) and the budget? how cheap is too cheap? please do tell.


*excluding flowers, my parents are covering the flowers after this debacle

a lil' something from tess smith photography (who is not nine million dollars and an absolute delight)

well, this happened. story 2.5 of 3.

no, that is not our apartment building but it is owned and operated by the same landlord.

...and this is where our ongoing debate of how to escape a crumbling building was born.

we think, and this is my no means professional, sane, or safe advice, it would be best to run down the fire espace until you are forced to jump, although, i have my doubts that that would actually work. we are open to other, safer alternatives if you know of any.

on another note, our favorite sushi spot is located just a building away from this building. its a little hole in the wall (ba dum ching) that we went to on our first date and have returned to almost weekly since. in fact, that is how we came across this lil' mess - we went out for  sushi. needless to say our hearts stopped when we saw this and with panic in our voices asked, " is that are sushi building?" followed (almost) immediately by, "oh right, and is anybody hurt?"  and the (always) practical and new york favorite, "do you think it was a terrorist?"  

it wasn't. they weren't. and no, it was not a terrorist just a lazy landlord.


*read story 1 and 2 here and here, respectively.

forget drunk dialing...

...what about drunk wedding planning?

you know, when you kick back a few to unwind and forget about all the "what is she wearing? what are we eating? what shoes will match that dress?  do we have to invite her? did i book my photographer for long enough? is it too late to change my mind on flowers?  what if my hair falls out?*" shenanigans that are constantly trampling all over your good mood and rational thinking skills and then do something you regret in the morning.

like say, i don't know,completely change the bridesmaid dresses.

its just the worse and a real hazard for intoxicated brides to be. trust me and my now-non-ruffled bridesmaid dresses.

reason 32,729...

...that i need to stop looking at wedding websites.

this stunning number is from j.crew and the pleats? well, they are just to die for. but seeing as i've already bought my gown (hint: it too involves ruffle-like pleats), i'll have to settle for the mini version also known as reason 258 to lose 30 pounds, flatten my chest, and work on my posture.

two signs of old age

one.) you not only enjoy drinking tea, but you also offer it to your guests

two.) you own a tea set

until today i was only guilty of the least incriminating of the two, that is i now enjoy drinking tea and think everyone who steps foot in my apartment should enjoy it too damn it. but now i've taken the plunge. buy me some orthopedic shoes, give me a perm, and pass me my dentures will ya, because today i buckled. today i bought this tea set (at west elm).

...but with its bright colors and clever cork, you may call me old but definitely not old fashioned.

drink up. its good for you and maybe afterwards we can head over to church for some bingo.

resolution number one.

each year when new years eve rolls around and everyone starts throwing out the question, "what are going to do for new years?" and the even more feared, "what are your resolutions?" i bunker down in my apartment, turn off the lights, and go to sleep shockingly sober and before 10 o'clock.

this year, call me crazy, i stayed up until 12:01AM, had a few drinks, AND throwing all caution to the wind made a few resolutions, most of which i am not going to share with you (if i don't live up to them no one will ever know and me? well, i'll just revert back to my old ways swearing off resolutions because i am fine just the way i am and i don't need a new calendar year to tell me to change thankyouverymuch. win, win).

alright, i'll throw you a bone. i'll tell you one; i am going to be a more* grateful person in 2011. in fact, i'm even going to go as far as keeping a gratitude journal as oprah suggested way back in, i don't know, 1996. and while i intended to share with you the list's highlights at the months' end the past four days have been filled with so many wonderful things i thought, "why the heck not fill you in now?" so here it goes.

i am grateful for...

• the delectable (i mean really f*cking good) duck i made on new years eve


• the car jason bought me which finally made an appearance in our lives


• waking up without a hangover


• fireplaces


• finding flower girl dresses for $30 at the crewcuts factory outlet when what you were really suppose to be looking for was grown-up interview clothes


• naps


• jason's understanding of my award winning mood swings (ok, i lied. i've never won an award for being an impractical b*tch, but i so could, if there was such a thing.)


• naps


• clementine season (seriously, i've put down roughly half a carton in the past two days alone.)


• soft pretzels with tostidos queso dip (obviously eating healthy didn't make the resolution list.)


• kisses on the arm


• late july organic cookies with vanilla bean/green tea filling (so i'm just going to wrap up this whole fat girl category up by saying i am VERY grateful for food in general.)


• AND plane tickets to Italy for our honeymoon. europe in the spring - to quote one of the least grateful (and most hungry) person i've ever seen on tv, "i.die.

what are you grateful for? and hey, what are your resolutions*?

*gasp, ew, pretend i didn't ask that - you are fine just the way you are.

it will be defeated.

via

in the constant battle of me vs. my hair - my hair always wins.

...and by "wins" i mean drives me completely insane until i just have to chop it all off.

but this time its different. this time there is wedding hair on the line. we're talking a mad men inspired hair do, hundreds of photos, and lifelong memories. my hair will be defeated! i'm ready to pull out any and all stops to make this long hair happen, but mainly i'm just going to ignore it until its all of a sudden long.

...and by "ignore it" i mean wear hats.

hats like this little number by The Fantastico Knit Factory on etsy. its just the right mix of vintage, cozy, and high fashion; what more can a girl on a battlefield ask for.

victory is mine.

because no one should see their fiance jump on the bed and scream like a girl. story 2 of 3.

via


awhile back i told you how the big apple is more of a bad apple. well here the saga continues and it starts with a squeak.


much to the carpet-stained-dismay of my mother, annoyed-inconvenience of former roommates, and head-shaking confusion of my fiance (although his is more of a "why do you wear make up at all, you're naturally beautiful..." misunderstanding. and yes, i know, he's a keeper.) i put on makeup on sitting on the floor, more often than not, in the middle of the living room.

and the only floor space available in previously discussed one bedroom apartment in this particular fourth floor walk up which we resided in, was right next to the radiator and its "charming" pre-(civil war)-cover. one day it squeaked.


"old heating systems make quite the racket," i thought to myself.

the next day it squeaked again, but that squeak was later accompanied by scratching in the walls while we slept. and i knew an old heating system wasn't to blame. but i was in denial. i mean who wants to admit that they live in an apartment with cockroaches AND mice. not me. until one day i couldn't ignore it anymore.

thats the day my fiance woke me up by running in to the bedroom, jumping up on the bed, screaming like a girl..."THERES A MOUSE IN OUR APARTMENT."


"nooooo," i said as i sleepily crept in to the living room where i learned that i move remarkably fast and jump incredibly high because i saw that mouse too ( the little bugger ran right behind my conveniently located (makeup) mirror knocking over a few things hidden behind it on the way and scurried right behind our couch) and i jumped right up on top of a bar stool where i (more acceptably) screamed like a girl. "GET OUT HERE AND GET IT. EW EW EW!"


and the next ten minutes was filled with scuffling of one rather tall man, one tiny mouse, one incredible small living room, and roughly nine million objects hidden behind our couch (and hey, before you start calling me a hoarder remember, the apartment was small.really really small. i'd store things wherever i could.) oh right, and me yelling "THERE HE IS. GET HIM. GET HIM!"


once the mouse was back in his hole, the radiator cover nailed to the wall, and anything the mouse may have possibly touched (blankets, a yoga mat, hairspray...) tossed into the garbage we headed outside to convince ourselves living in new york has its benefits (like the homeless lady who always sat outside our apartment or the fresh scent of garbage that lines the streets on a sunday morning).


strike two.