Monthly Archive

Fall wedding, fall colors. Likes: reds, purples, deep oranges. Dislikes: bright yellows, too much filler, anything that resembles a weed.

#1 Maybe a bit big and far too many leaves, but I like the colors.

#2 I like the overall colors in this one and I think the size is about right.

#3 I mostly like the combination of reds and purples here.

#4 Maybe I should just forget the whole thing and go all (red) berries!

I have an appointment with the florist this afternoon to start discussing options. She asked that I bring pictures of everything — my dress, the bridesmaid dresses, centerpiece ideas, my colors and anything that has ever caught my eye. I think it’s a really good sign that she wants to see the cohesive picture in order to best help me pick my flowers.

I also hope she has a tray of martinis and a pile of grilled cheese sandwiches, but that might be expecting a little too much from my florist.

- While delicious, grande soy no-water chais are not food. I should really stop substituting them for breakfast because I’m always hungry an hour later. Also, at almost five bucks a pop, by the end of the month I’ll have basically drank away a pair of shoes. SHOES, people.

- Speaking of shoes, I’ve been a total slacker with updating my “Wearing” and “Wanting” shoes. Sorry about that. When I switched jobs I saved all the images of shoes I actually owned on a disk. That disk sat in a bag in my car up until last weekend when Michael got tired of looking at it. Now the disk is sitting in the bag in the upstairs hallway. Maybe by next month I’ll actually, you know, take it out.

- Have you visited The Winning Pitch lately? Do you know it’s updated three times a week with random topics that interest fabulous women?

- DJ or wedding band? That’s what we’re trying to decide right now. Michael is pro-band, I’m pro-DJ. Here’s why: DJs can’t really mess up the music, they cost less and they’re only one mouth to feed. I understand the appeal of a band, but it’s got to be a great band in my opinion.  I’ve been listening to samples online and usually just feel ehh about them.

- I want to write a book. I really do. I think if I wrote a book it would probably be in the chick lit genre (how many of you just rolled your eyes?) because, well, I’m girly. I’m not really sure how to get the ball rolling. If I wrote a book, would you read it?

- Every morning Kodiak gets two biscuits with his breakfast. He usually hides them in a corner, behind a door or under the couch until later in the evening when he unearths them and eats them up. This morning I noticed that he hadn’t eaten the biscuits from yesterday, so I didn’t give him two new ones. Clearly agitated about it, he nudged me repeatedly as I put the new biscuits back in their container.

“Mom,” Michael said, using the ‘Kodiak Voice’, “Mom, I’m saving those in case of a recession. Mom, give me my biscuits!”

I didn’t oblige. He can eat the ones from yesterday. I swear, if Kodiak was a person he’d be a little old lady who saves bottle caps and pieces of string.

Hello? Is anyone out there? Where have you all gone? I’m feel like you all disappeared.

Crickets.

I also had another wedding nightmare last night. This time my hair was a frizzy mess and my mom told me to get over it, my dress was some gray thing and people were standing in the aisle while I was trying to walk down it. Then, as we were trying to say our vows, people were talking and getting up to leave. I actually thought to myself, “This has to be a dream. I’ll wake up.” But I didn’t wake up. Instead, Dream Molly started yelling at her guests to sit back down and wait till everything was over.

I cannot tell you how happy I was when I actually did wake up.

So, um, yes. Really. Where have you all been?

- You’re really annoying when you talk on the phone. Your voice gets all squeaky and you sound like you don’t know what you’re talking about. By now, you should know what you’re talking about.

- I don’t understand why people are obsessed with you. Your stories make me want to rip my eyes out and use them as bowling balls. You’re self-centered, a bad dresser and boring.

- I couldn’t have made this transformation without you. You keep me motivated just by knowing you’re coming to pick me up and you make me laugh through each exhausting hour. I can see the change in you even if you don’t believe me. You look great.

- I know you’re bored, but I’m so happy you’ve been around on gchat. I miss you like crazy and love that you pop up at random times during the day and make me laugh. You have become a beautiful and unique woman and I really am proud of you. But I wouldn’t mind if you threw out the green sweater.

- Just when I think I’m going to lose it, you make a comment about wearing funny t-shirts to my wedding to piss off my mother-in-law. You are one of the funniest and brightest people I know and I’m pretending that you are going to live here forever because the alternative makes me sad.

- Each of you are important to me in different ways and when you all get together it’s going to be awesome. You are six of my most favorite people in the whole world and I’m honored that you will be standing next to me.

- I know you’re going to cry when you see me in my dress. And then I’m going to cry because you’re crying. Put extra tissues in your pocket.

- I may snap at you or get frustrated, but I really value your opinion. Your advice thus far has been great and it’s meant so much that you’ve been able to share some of the big planning moments with me. You understand my reaction to stress and know when to let me cry it out and when to tell me to get over it. I’m glad you can keep me in check. Please bring the ginger tea with you in October, just in case.

- You’ve been known to fart of me, tickle me, pinch me, grab at me, slap my butt, make faces at me and act like a big doof. Sometimes all in the same day. But despite all that, I still kind of like you. Well, maybe more than like. I think I’ll keep you.

 May 2007

February 2008

Same girl, same dress, different body.

When I started, the goal was to be a skinny bride. But that’s changed. I still want to be a skinny bride, but I also want to be a healthy woman for the rest of my life. I should have done this gym thing years ago.

This post isn’t meant to be a gloating “look at me!” type thing, but I’m posting it because I’m really proud of myself for getting as far as I have. Often I feel like I write for you, my wonderful readers, but today I’m writing for me.

Keep it up, Molly! I’m so very proud of you.

“It’s Disney-themed,” Carley said as she stirred the pasta.

Jenna’s hand froze mid-air, the vegetable peeler poised over the cucumber. “I’m sorry,” she laughed. “Did you just say your wedding is going to be Disney-themed?”

“Mmm hmm. I’m really going to miss pasta,” Carley replied wistfully. “No more carbs until after ‘I Do!’”

Who was this alien standing in her kitchen, Jenna wondered. “Car, seriously? Disney? As in, Someday my prince will come?”

“No, silly. I’m thinking more When you wish upon a star.”

*

Friends ever since the day Jenna moved to Oakbrook Meadows, Illinois. She stood nervously in the doorway of Mrs. Kitchner’s 1st grade class, clutching her Dark Crystal lunchbox.

“Class, this is Jenna Matthews,” Mrs. Kitchner said, wiping Elmer’s glue on her pants.

“Hiiii, Jenna,” the class chimed in unison.

“Jenna, you’ll sit here, next to Carley,” she said, leading her over to a girl with a long red ponytail. ”Carley, please show Jenna where we keep the crayons.”

“I like the blue crayon best,” said Carley.

“I like the pink crayon,” Jenna said.

“Me too,” replied Carley. “I like the pink crayon best.”

*

Jenna and Carley, Carley and Jenna. Known as best friends up through high school, the two were never apart. They sat next to each other at every birthday party, slept over each other’s houses every weekend and shared their clothes. Everything they did, they did together. Except for getting their periods. Jenna got hers first the summer before eighth grade. Carley told everyone she got hers too, but it wasn’t until the fall that she really needed those Always pads she carried in her backpack.

Carley Chameleon, Jenna called her. Always changing her opinions, her clothes or her hair based on what others were doing. It didn’t surprise Jenna when in high school, Carley was suddenly interested in ice hockey, then video games, then chemistry–depending on who she was dating. It never bothered Jenna too much because when they were together, Carley was Carley. The Carley that liked strawberry ice cream slightly melted, who could rollerskate circles around anyone and had the best collection of Bonne Bell Lip Smackers. If she wanted to put on an ugly jersey and cheer for a sport she didn’t get, Jenna couldn’t care less.

The two parted ways for college, Jenna making her way to Boston University to study English while Carley picked Oklahoma State for the sororities. “It doesn’t matter what I chose for a major, Jen,” she explained. “It’s all about who you meet along the way.”

*

The sound of her cell phone broke Jenna’s concentration. She knew who it was before she even looked. Carley, back from her trip to Florida. Which boyfriend and she gone with? Tim? Benjamin?

“Hi, Car.”

“I’m getting married, Jen!” Carley squealed into the phone.

“Oh yeah, what’s this one’s name?” Jenna said brushing the toast crumbs from her laptop, thinking that Mr. Florida was yet another “perfect” boy who Carley swore she was going to marry.

“Keith! His name is Keith. Remember? I told you about him. He’s a Sigma and I met him at a highlighter party last semester and Jen you should see the ring! It’s so sparkly and it’s a princess cut. “A princess for my princess,” he said. He got on his knee right in front of Cinderella’s Castle and I couldn’t even speak! Jenna, say something!”

“Are you insane?”

To be continued…

…Olay body wash and Lovely perfume, golden blonde hair hiding reddish brown roots, high heeled shoes and ballet flats, strong muscles but pesky arm jiggle, little brown eyes and big full lips, salads and fruit and pizza and ice cream.

…An ear for music, an eye for fashion, a love of reading, a hatred of vacuuming, a daughter, a sister, a friend, a fiancée. A writer, a dreamer, a believer, a skeptic. Compassionate, friendly, attentive, loving, stubborn, emotional, cautious and kind.

…A sucker for new lipgloss, a magazine collector, a maker of piles, an organizer of shoes. Loyal, protective, intelligent, a democrat. A publicist, a blogger, a mother (to a dog!), a gym rat.

…Organized at work and wedding planning, unorganized at home, v-neck shirts and wrap sweaters, perfect-fit jeans and chunky necklaces, nails filed square and toes with chipping polish, Third Eye Blind and Britney Spears.

Who are you?

7:30 a.m.

Michael nudges me in bed. “Molly, are you going to the gym?”

Me: “Grumble, grumble, huh?, grumble.”

Knock, knock, knock.

“Molly, is Jen here?”

“Meh?”

Ding, dong!

“Ah!”

At the gym:

“Feeling the burn on the StairMaster today. Woah, I know I did weights yesterday but a weekend away from the gym really effects my cardio. Blah. OK, 20 minutes is enough. I’ll go on the elliptical for the rest of the time. Music isn’t bad in here today, but I like it better when they play 80s rock in the morning. Really gets me going. You’re way too beeeeeeautiful girl, that’s why we will never work. You had me su — huh? In denial? Those aren’t the words! They’re trying to be PC at the gym? Ugh. Just put on some Poison, will ya?

I feel hotter than usual and I’m really thirsty. Time to stop, it’s almost time to leave anyway. Woooah, I feel dizzy. And nauseous. And uh oh, I better lay down. OK, on the mat. Why is the ceiling spinning? I wonder if this mat was wiped down…ew…don’t care. Still dizzy. And hot. Gah.”

In the shower:

“Wash away the mat sweat ewwww. Still feel dizzy. Should I call out? No, we had yesterday off and there will be so. much. email. Sneeze! Oh no. Now I’m sneezing? And ow, that hurt my throat. Blah. Guess I’m calling out.”

Back in bed:

“Michael, stop being annoying. I’m sick! Stop pinching my thighs. That’s not funny! Grrrr. I’m gonna pop you.”

In the afternoon:

“The woman from the church was supposed to leave the door open for us today. Ugh, we better go. But she never confirmed in the email. Oh well, she knows it’s today. I’ll just call to remind her. Hm, answering machine. Hope she gets it. I know she got it, right? I’ll just throw on this baseball cap and we can go. Quick look in mirror? Sure. AH! Ugh, pasty and gross. Do not look in mirror anymore.”

At the church:

“What do you mean the church is locked? Well, jiggle the handle. I can’t believe she didn’t show. I’ll call her again…voicemail! Grrrr. Leave snippy message. Can we at least look in the windows? Boost me up, I’m too short. This must look interesting to anyone driving by. And since when are churches locked? Grrr.”

Back at home:

“I’ll just lay on the couch for a little while and read this great wedding book from my aunt…”

Three hours later:

“Huh? What time is it? 5:45! Time for dinner, I guess!”

10:30 p.m.

“I know you have to use the coupon tonight but can you order from L.L. Bean in the other room? You’re talking over The Millionaire Matchmaker! Shush, it’s a good show. Yes it is!”

11:02 p.m.

“Zzzzzzzzz.”

The wedding was beautiful. Starting with a rehearsal dinner to die for, and ending with a ceremony that made me cry and a reception that could only be summed up with one word: WOW. I wish I could accurately describe how delicious the duck quesadillas were, how much fun it was to dance to hora with family and strangers alike or how when dancing with Michael thinking about our own wedding, I was so happy I almost couldn’t breathe.

In just over an hour I will be on my way to the station, boarding a train to NYC. This weekend is my cousin’s wedding, a weekend event that is bound to be quite the affair. I cannot wait for great food, amazing music and dancing up a storm in a cute little dress.

I also can’t wait to see Michael in a yarmulke.

And oh yeah, brunch with Clink and M tomorrow. Yay!

Back on Tuesday with lots of pictures.

What are your long weekend plans?

Our first Valentine’s Day was spent in a cozy B&B in Chatham, Mass. In a blizzard. I remember the room was charming, the town was almost empty… and we both got ridiculously sick from our romantic V-Day dinner. Remember, quaint B&B, a bathroom in the bedroom but nowhere else. We had been dating for almost a year, but that was the first time my ears were privy to the sounds of Michael’s lower half.

It was also the first time he witnessed me curled up in the fetal position dying from stomach pain. And when I couldn’t take it anymore (because unfortunately, he was still in the bathroom), I ran around the house until I found a small bathroom smack in between two bedrooms. Bedrooms with people in them. I did not care. This was an emergency. After an hour or two, both of us finally able to stand again, we collapsed in the four-poster bed.

And fell asleep.

The year after that I lay next to him in his lofted twin bed (ah, college), holding a washcloth to his forehead and stroking his hair. His 102 degree fever lasted through the night and into the next day.

I’ve gotten comments before asking if my life is really as perfect as it seems. I have news for you, life isn’t perfect.  I may be one of the sappiest people you will ever meet, waving my love flag behind me wherever I go, but I know first hand that life is full of ups and downs.  

Today is the sixth Valentine’s Day we will celebrate together.  Some have been amazing, others have been just another day. I like the idea of having a day that celebrates love, but I know it’s not necessary.

Because every day, the up days, the down days and all the days in between, I love this boy. 

(And this one too!)

I hate period week. Not only does it make me want to eat everything in the house, it also makes me super, extremely, highly emotional. Take last night. Last night I…

a) Came home from work, had a cupcake, went to the gym.

b) Came home from the gym, had dinner, ate another cupcake.

c) Curled up on the couch with Michael and started watching TV, alternating between Dirty Jobs and the Westminster Dog Show. (We’re Team Newfie, in case you were curious.) Proceeded to tear up every time the commercial with the little dog at the pound named Echo that no one chooses came on. Damn you, Pedigree and your heart wrenching commercials! (Need a good cry? Here it is.)

d) Checked my email and read one from my mom where she said she just doesn’t like one of the things I posted about yesterday. Begin to cry, AGAIN, because wedding planning can be so frustrating and if it was next week I could handle a stupid disagreement but it’s this week and if you look at me the wrong way I might burst into tears.

e) Was consoled by Michael who assured me that whatever I choose will be beautiful and don’t worry, the lady from the church will call you back and yes, you look cute even with a red nose and watery eyes.

f) Ate a cupcake. Don’t you dare judge me.

PS- I’m guest posting over at Barbie’s place today.

 Save-the-Date magnets.

Candles for the pews.

Hair like Marcia’s. (The curl, not the color.)

Damask invitations. (In red.)

Candle centerpieces.

Discuss…

As soon as she stepped off the train, I knew it was going to be a great weekend. There wasn’t a second of awkwardness. Instead, there was a screaming and jumping spectacle in the train station parking lot, complete with, “You smell so good!” and “You look like YOU!” And she does look like her. She’s gorgeous–tall, curvy and has hair to die for.

We jumped in the car talking a mile a minute, minus a quick pause when she called M to let him know that I was in fact who I said I was and not some creepy 45-year old man.

She was quickly introduced to Kodiak and his habit of sitting in the bathroom with you. I think she handled it just fine.

Off to the bar, where five (six? ugggh) martinis were consumed over the night. Clink had me laughing all night. Her blog doesn’t accurately portray how animated and vivacious she is. She can talk to anyone, she’s hilarious and she just rocks. Period. She had no problem getting along with Michael and talked easily with my friends.

I wish I could tell you I had a ton of amazing pictures, but the truth is we waited until about halfway through the night to start taking them, which resulted in mostly blurry shots of usually half of our faces.

We did get the (blurry) bling shot. Notice the rows of empty martini glasses behind them.

And then Clink broke a glass. And it took until the next afternoon, over lunch with BossMike (who actually coined today’s title) to figure out that my bleeding finger was not caused my by the zipper on my jeans (what?) but by a piece of glass. What to do you know.

Lunch with BossMike was great–just like three old friends that had known each other forever. It was far too short and will have to be repeated. It was also topped off with Chocolate Yummies (they WERE) from PB & Razz. My thighs hate you, but my stomach adores you.

Clink recapped the highlights of the weekend pretty well, but I have a few to add.

- She and M adore each other. It was so sweet to see the note he hid in her suitcase, the way he texted her saying he missed her and to hear them talk on the phone. There is no doubt in my mind that those two have a long and happy future together. I cannot wait until next weekend when over brunch, I try and convince M that he should really move to Rhode Island.

- She has the cutest clothes, great green shoes and an infectious laugh. She also calls cute things “munch” which I loved.

- I felt like I had known her all my life and was sad to see her go. She gets it, gets me.

Stay tuned for next weekend, when hopefully we get some non-blurry pictures.

It has arrived. Eight hours from now I will be standing at the train station (or if it’s still raining, hiding in the Envoy) anticipating Clink’s arrival.

It’s like the universe knew, because her save-the-date arrived last night and is hanging on the fridge.

 If you’ve been to her site today, you know she packed a lot of shoes.

If you saw my closet, you’d know I reorganized mine. You know, in case she wants to look at them.

The gym was visited this morning as once last attempt to burn off some calories, as this weekend holds nothing but drinks, food and more drinks and food.

I freaked out and stayed up late cleaning my bedroom. Yeah, my bedroom. Where I sleep. I may write about the piles, but I can’t let her be exposed to them on the first meeting. Next time she visits it’s fair game.

I have no idea what shoes to wear. Purple? Blue? Magenta? Stand-by black?

Pictures Monday…all boobs, bling and smiles.

Last weekend I lay on my mom’s couch scanning through the guide on TV. Nothing seemed interesting until an old favorite caught my eye: Father of the Bride. I love this movie. I watch it every time it’s on, no matter what part I come in on. I’ve loved this movie since my 9th birthday party when along with my mom and a handful of friends, I stared up at the big screen and thought, someday.

The movie is like a grilled cheese sandwich. If I had it every day, it would lose its magic. But a dose of it every now and then brings comfort and happiness. And this movie, no matter how many times I see it, always makes me emotional.

There is one scene that gets me every time. When the daughter, Annie, is walking down the aisle to her future husband. The scene has always brought a tear to my eye, but now, now that come this October that scene will come to life for me, I can’t keep it together.

My mom turned around just in time to see my wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. “What is it?” she asked.

I sniffed and smiled. “I just love him so much!” I cried.

And I do. My god, I love him so much.

Last night we were up past one. We laughed about our first moments together. How nervous we had been. How completely smitten we were with each other. We talked about how with year six approaching, it’s just gotten better and better. And with many years ahead, we’re going to do just fine.

Sometimes within the craziness of wedding planning, it’s easy to forget what’s at the center of it. It’s not just a wedding, it’s a marriage. A marriage that will ultimately have it’s hard times, disagreements and potholes. But a marriage that I know will stand the test of time.

I looked at him, at the face I see in my dreams and kissed him to distract my eyes from tearing.

“Molly,” he said last night. “Mrs. Molly Michael.”

The future Mrs. Michael.

I cannot wait.

High: It’s Wednesday, which means the week is half over and Clink visits in two days.

Low: It’s only Wednesday, which means only half the week is over and I only have two days to clean the house before Clink visits.

High:The gym and I are total BFFs. We meet up for drinks five times a week minimum.

Low: Damn you, triceps machine and your ability to make me almost grunt. (Which you know I hate!) We will meet again tonight you evil bastard.

High: All this gym has made the majority of my clothes fit better, except for my pants which are mostly all too big. Woo!

Low: My pants are too big. Which means that except for the first 20 minutes out of the dryer, they’re saggy and loose. And with the wedding only, omigod, eight months away, I really can’t afford to be spending money on new pants.

High: I’m getting married in eight months!

Low: I’m getting married in eight months. There is SO much to do. Yesterday I went to set up a room block at a local hotel, but when I got there I was informed that the woman behind the desk could not help me. Doug, the group guy, could help me. But Doug wasn’t there. Doug will be in today. After 10. I have to speak to Doug.

High: I’m wearing a cute shirt today.

Low: I just noticed that the layer I have underneath it is inside out.

 Sigh.

My office has a very small parking lot that cannot accommodate everyone who works here. And since I’m last hired, I usually take a spot on the street. Which is no big deal, unless it’s a particular time of day when the street is packed with cars from the building next door.

This morning was one of those days, so I squeezed my car in behind another, trying my best not to stick out into the driveway behind me.

I just went out and found this note on my windshield. It says:

“Please do not park so close to drive way. Its a wrigh of way thank you.”

Punctuation aside, I’m not really sure what a wrigh of way is.

I think tomorrow I will park IN the driveway.

The dress fit. My wedding dress fit! Actually, it has to be taken in a little but seriously, people. It. Fit. Woo! Also, the new bridesmaid dresses are perfect and my girls are going to look stunning in the deep red. Claret, if you will.

I was in NY for less than 18 hours. A whirlwind trip that was so productive. Wedding dress in? Check. Bridesmaid dresses ordered? Check. Guest list finalized, shower venues scouted, veil purchased? Check, check annnnd check. There was also the promised sushi and chocolate. Mmmm.

I also have the first of my something old, new, borrowed and blue quad completed. My aunt gave me a beautiful delicate gold and diamond bracelet worn by my great grandmother. I guess it’s old and borrowed! I love it.

I am officially back on board the wedding train. Next on my list, among many, many others, is figuring out our honeymoon. Originally, I had my heart set on St. Lucia. I really want to be warm on my honeymoon and after looking at my friend’s St. Lucia honeymoon pictures, I was hooked. Tropical beaches, warm sun, a private pool with my husband by my side? Yes, please.

The only problem is that October is hurricane season in the Bahamas. And while we might be fine, we might get hit with a giant storm. I don’t know if I want to risk it.

So option two: Napa Valley, California. Gorgeous hotels, leisurely wine tours, relaxing massages? Neither of us have ever been to Napa Valley, it will still be warm out there and Michael won’t have to get on a tiny plane to get there.

Option three: I don’t know what option three is. At this point Michael doesn’t really have much of an opinion on it so I’m doing the planning myself. Yes, there’s always Europe, but Michael is terrified of flying and I don’t want that to put a giant damper on our trip. I also have to think about this from a financial standpoint, unfortunately. We’re paying for the majority of the wedding on our own and I need to plan the honeymoon accordingly.

So my loves, help a sister out. Where did you honeymoon? Not married? Where have you vacationed? Help plan my honeymoon!

Some of you will be happy to know that I am putting the January funk behind me. Writing that post yesterday (and emailing all morning with Clink, who swore to me that no, you are not a giant snow beast and yes, you will fit perfectly into your wedding dress) was very therapeutic. It kicked my butt into gear and made me realize that with anxiety, it’s either sink or swim.

I don’t really enjoy swimming, but I’d really hate to sink.

So I dove into work, chipping away at projects little by little until it didn’t seem quite as overwhelming. I also went home and had lunch with Michael, and seeing the boy mid-day makes everything better. And right before the end of the day I got an email from this guy, which I won’t share, but let me just say that his encouraging words made me tear up a little.

So in celebration of a new month, I bring you the things that are making me very happy right now.

- I get to spend the weekend with my mom and aunt, getting fitted in my wedding dress, not the sample dress.

- Following the fitting there will be sushi. And shopping. And maybe a little chocolate.

- Next Friday, a very special guest is coming for the weekend. That’s right, I’m finally meeting Clink. We’ve agreed that for one weekend and one weekend only, all diets are off the table, as food and drink will be taking precedent.

- The weekend after that is my cousin’s wedding. A NYC affair that is bound to be spectacular. It’s also an excuse to put on a fabulous little black dress, curl my hair and dance all night.

- The gym–the place I used to despise–is becoming almost second nature. If I don’t go I feel off and when I do go, after working myself into a red, sweaty mess, I feel spectacular.

So see you later, January. I got me a date with February.

What does this month hold for you?