Wanted to Share.

I took two sort-of engagement photos of Rob and I today, and Lala helped me with some editing!
I'm thrilled with how they came out.

New Banner, finally!

Dash at Anything Oita-Ken, a good friend of mine from college, made me this glorious masthead, of which I am rather fond. Thanks Dash :)

I also had to come up with a different layout as I didn't want my blog to clash with itself (isn't that really the last thing we all want?). So I'm going for a minimalist look to make my banner pop.

I probably should get some actual work done today.

A list

I have a desire to write but don't have it in me to write coherent paragraphs. The remedy? A list!

1. I wish I had a fun banner at the top of my blog. How do you even get those?

2. At the risk of giving TMI, my period is wreaking havoc on my life this month. It's twice as painful, twice as uncomfortable, and actually affecting my behavior as it's never done before. I'm snarky, hot, annoyed, and I have to pee a lot. BOO, uterus.

3. Working from home is great and I love setting my own schedule. I didn't even shower today and woke up at like 10 a.m., and yet got way more done than I ever did sitting on my ass in an office. No lie.

4. I love our new apartment. Every time I get up and walk around I just feel like I'm "home." Now if I could just get a new couch, because this $200 futon from Walmart is about two seconds away from being thrown against the wall by yours truly. I will gather up the strength and do it.

5. Rob came across a huge tool-pants today while walking the Beast. The trail behind our house is a state ATV trail. He walks the Beast there because it's pretty clear of people and ATVs. It's never been an issue that she walks off-leash...ever. Today some d-bag on a bike began to pass Rob and Cypress and Cypress, being a dog, ran toward him. He yelled "HEY, HEY, HEY!" and actually got off the bike to shoo her away (using the bike as a shield), then yelled to Rob "PUT IT ON A LEASH," to which Rob replied, "Fuck you, Spaz." First of all, where do you get off frightening my 60 lb dog with a bike, and second of all, CHILL THE FUCK OUT and KEEP RIDING. My dog can't catch up to you and even if she did, she'd lick you to death and that's about it.

Full disclosure: it is the law on a state-owned trail to have your dog on a leash or at least under voice control (which she is). But we live in Maine and Maine is pretty Beast-friendly. Nobody has ever had a problem with Cypress or any other Beast running free on a trail as long as they aren't pooping all over the place or biting people. Cypress does neither of these. So again, dude, chill out and ride your damn bike.

6. I'm going upstairs to do work.

Oh, Weddings.

I know I said in the previous post that THIS IS NOT A WEDDING BLOG and I intend to keep it that way. But I do have to vent about something that happened this weekend that does pertain to my wedding. So for those of you who detest wedding blogs (you know who you are) feel free to skip this post.

I spent the Fourth at my grandmother's, as is our family's tradition. My grandmother's house is also where I plan to get married. It's right on the ocean (you can literally see across to Canada) and it has a ton of meaning to my family (mostly because my father and his siblings, plus a few other people, actually built it in the 1970s for my grandparents). It's a gorgeous spot and I'm thrilled to spend one of the most important days of my life there. The question has been, where to have the reception. I'd love to have it at my grandmother's along with the wedding, but it might be too small and my grandmother is 93. I really don't want to stress her out with having to deal with 50-80 people in her home. 50-80 DRUNK people. There's a restaurant nearby, a chowder house, that is right on the wharf and is all wood on the inside. My cousin and aunt both had their receptions there. The "problem" with this chowder house is that it's a hot spot for all the hicks in the town so it has that reputation...but without the drunk hicks, it's a beautiful, informal place with a beautiful view and a full wharf leading out to the ocean.

I was hanging out with my cousin and his wife on the night of the Fourth and we found our way to this bar. I mentioned casually that I was considering having my reception there, a statement that was met with derisive laughter. They thought I was joking. My cousin said, "Yeah, THAT would be classy." I was too tired, cranky and shocked to say anything so I just smiled. I went on to say that our wedding will most likely be at my grandmother's, which was met with a similar reaction. His wife said, "Why don't you just go for a destination wedding?"

I thought this was absurdly rude, which wasn't overly surprising for the company I was in but still, a little shocking and frustratingly, enough to make me question my wedding plans. I really don't think that's something that should be done to a blushing soon-to-be bride such as myself. I don't want to have a destination wedding because I finally decided to include my family (as in they will witness the ceremony, which is a change from the initial plans) and I don't want to burden them with coming all the way down to the Caribbean for my selfish ass. Especially seeing as how my grandmother is, as previously mentioned, 93, and would never be able to attend. Rob's grandfather does not fly and would also not be able to attend. Many of our family members have jobs, kids, etc. and can't afford a flight to Jamaica/the DR/wherever. Even if I didn't fly my family down there, I'd still have to pay for our witnesses to come. I don't have that kind of money and will not for many years.

I just don't understand where people get off telling me how I should celebrate MY marriage.

And a fun picture to end, since Dash told me I should include more pictures:

No title.

Not much has been going on here...just chilling out, taking pictures, and working.

I apologize that these pictures look so shit-tastic here...the resolution is all messed up. To see the originals check out my Flickr.





I was very surprised to hear about Michael Jackson's death, though in all honesty it's not as if I think of Michael Jackson on a regular basis, so any sort of news I guess would be surprising. I think it's a veritable tragedy, truth be told. A very sad end for a very sad, troubled person.

I've been working on my amateur photography hobby on a regular basis, though in all honesty I am generally pretty discouraged. One of my least favorite attributes of myself (of which there are many) is my perfectionism. Often when I embark on a new project, activity, hobby, etc., I imagine in my head that I will be an expert in it instantly. Unfortunately this is rarely the case and I am left frustrated and filled with self-loathing (yes, loathing). I'm working through this particular issue, since, well, I have a $600 camera in my hands. I damn well BETTER start believing in myself.

Rob bought a rifle the other day. He's been talking about it for months; I think he wants to start shooting as a hobby. He never shot a firearm before the Army but I think he came to enjoy it. I am not a huge fan of guns, perhaps because I never grew up around them and hey, they're pretty fucking frightening. He's told me that he plans on making me shoot it to increase my comfort level...we shall see how that goes.

THIS IS NOT A WEDDING BLOG so I don't really want to go into my latest wedding plans. The plans are also ever-changing so really there's no point. Suffice it to say: ocean, family, inclusive, informal, vows. Is that enough?

Oh, and one more thing: if the rain doesn't stop I will drown in my bed.

To share.

Rob's father shared this poem with me. Basically it's a poem about how we as a society (in this case, England, but I think it's like this everywhere) only seem to care about our soldiers when we actually need them...I thought it was pretty appropriate.

"Tommy"
By Rudyard Kipling

I went into a public-'ouse to get a pint o' beer,
The publican 'e up an' sez, "We serve no red-coats here."
The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I:
O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, go away";
But it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play,
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play.

I went into a theatre as sober as could be,
They gave a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none for me;
They sent me to the gallery or round the music-'alls,
But when it comes to fightin', Lord! they'll shove me in the stalls!
For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, wait outside";
But it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide,
The troopship's on the tide, my boys, the troopship's on the tide,
O it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide.

Yes, makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap;
An' hustlin' drunken soldiers when they're goin' large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin' in full kit.
Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, 'ow's yer soul?"
But it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll,
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
O it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll.

We aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no blackguards too,
But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints,
Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints;
While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, fall be'ind",
But it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind,
There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,
O it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind.

You talk o' better food for us, an' schools, an' fires, an' all:
We'll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.
Don't mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
The Widow's Uniform is not the soldier-man's disgrace.
For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute!"
But it's "Saviour of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot;
An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please;
An' Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool -- you bet that Tommy sees!

New Post, New Post, New Post

I've been pressing that damn New Post button over and over again but then closing the window after a few seconds. I have blog anxiety.

Lately I have read some BORING blogs. None on my reader list (so don't be self conscious, I and everyone else love reading what you girls have to write) but blogs that I have come across at random times. And damn, they are BORING. I have a fear/anxiety that my blog is BORING. Which is why I've been contemplating eradicating it completely.

So here goes, trying not to be boring...

My new job is amazing, but I didn't realize that working from home could actually make me stir crazy. I've noticed a heightened sense of annoyance at silly things that wouldn't have annoyed me before, and I think I've been far less patient with both my fiance and my beast. It's frustrating feeling so snarky at everyone and everything. I also get antsy more often and worry a lot about...well, nothing. I'm hoping this is just a phase and I can work through it. We bought some exercise equipment (nothing special, just a ball and some 8-lb weights) which will hopefully help a bit. Let's see if I actually use them, HA!

The new apartment is also amazing. We have a ton more room (two floors) so I am able to work in complete and total piece while Rob can do whatever he wants downstairs. Cypress has taken to sleeping on the guest bed in my office to keep me company (or just enjoy its amazing comfiness). We finally had to put a sheet on it because she was getting so much dirt/hair all over the damn comforter. It's almost like she's a dog or something.

So, as much as I hate to put it in writing, Jon and Kate Gosselin are getting a divorce. And as much as I hate adding my opinion to it--since I think other peoples' opinions were what caused this kerfuffle (who on earth says "kerfuffle," really?!)--I really think it's rather disappointing. If you look at the timeline of Jon and Kate's relationship (at least from a television perspective), it's pretty obvious to see the effects of the gradual "corruption" (for lack of a better word) and media frenzy. Kate, to me, was always an absolute psycho. But before this season, she was a loveable psycho. She was anal and obnoxious, but she got shit done. Then she just turned into an all out super-psycho. And is it just me, or is Jon one of the most immature 32-year-olds EVER? I'm sorry dude, earrings are not my thing on a guy, especially one your age who has 8 children. Maybe you didn't get to "sow your wild oats" because you married Kate and had a whole litter of children...but that's life. That's adulthood. Suck it the F up and be an adult. You don't need to go out partying with some random chick. There are tons of ways to have fun away from your kids.

And the complaining about fame is hilarious. You both brought this on yourself and your children. If it was too much, you should have just stopped it.



I hope this was marginally less boring than usual.