Since I Last Updated...

...the wedding and reception happened with only minor issues, we got lots of wedding presents (and money), my domain name expired, my credit card went overlimit, we drove to Massachusetts for our honeymoon (and back via Niagara Falls) totaling over 1700 miles on the Kia, my grandmother died, we put away all our gifts, I paid on my credit card and renewed my domain, and we're preparing for the funeral in Cleveland on Tuesday.

Oh, yeah, and I go on "vacation" with my family to Texas in less than two weeks.

I think I'm going to put the honeymoon and wedding entry separate from the "normal" blog entries, so as not to overload the June blog page. 'Cause this is going to be loooong. Like Sheryl's Japan narrative, but not quite.

I called Amy last night to see how she was doing. I guess she's doing a little better — she'd been planning to try to go back to work today. She's been home all this past week, tired and weak and kind of in pain. Good thing she didn't try to make the wedding, cause she would have been miserable.

Well, I guess I'll go start on the wedding and honeymoon entries, and maybe scan some pics. I don't have the professional proofs from the wedding yet, but a friend of Aaron's brought a digital camera to the wedding, so I have some wedding and reception pics, too.

Oh, and don't feel too bad about Memaw. I've already done my mourning, and I will continue to do so tomorrow, but it was expected. Honestly, I'm glad it's finally over.

The Unexpected...

You know how you can never plan for the thing that'll go wrong in your wedding? You think you've got everything under control, but one unexpected glitch always gets you?

Amy called today. She's in the hospital.

She'll be fine, don't worry... she just has an inflammation of the lower colon. (Ick.) She checked herself in to the ER on Tuesday with excruciating stomach pain and a 102° fever. Got to do such fun things as having a CAT scan, among other more invasive procedures. She says they might let her out tomorrow if her fever subsides, but not to plan on her being at the rehearsal, and only tentatively at the wedding itself.

Damn, that would suck.

In happier news, the programs are printed, my nails are done, and the engagement photo is ready for signing.

T-minus 92 Hours

In case anyone's interested... here's the latest on the wedding front.

Got the Marriage License today. Basically, it took a half hour of our time plus 40 bucks for us to guarantee that (a) we are not related — that is, second cousins or closer, (b) we were not intoxicated while applying for a marriage license, and (c) neither of us have syphilis.

Seriously. We had to swear that we didn't have syphilis. How long has that law been on the books?

Anyway, we've touched base with pretty much everyone, including the photographer, officiant, bakery, our families, and our wedding party (well, pretty much... I still haven't gotten hold of Mel yet, but she's supposed to call tonight). Still on the to-do list:

• Cut fabric and tie ribbons for centerpieces
• Get programs printed at Kinko's
• Get French manicure on Thursday
  ...or is that a freedom manicure? ;-)
• Buy crepe paper/tulle and balloons for decorations
• Make giant "Cook-Schnuth Wedding" roadside signage
• Pick up wedding dress on Friday with Amy
• Buy flowers for centerpieces on Friday
• Finish matting engagement photo / guestbook
• Call in final guest count to Catering

I'm sure there's probably something else that I'm forgetting, too. Ehh.

If you're not in the wedding party, and you're coming in to town on Friday night, you're welcome to hang out with us after the rehearsal. We think we're going to Junction for dinner (we're all going Dutch), but we're not positive about that yet. I'll try to leave my cell on as much as possible on Friday, not including the time we're rehearsing (5:30pm - 6:00 or 6:30), so if you want the number, e-mail me.

Just out of curiosity, I looked at the guest list and broke it down by age group, so all you folks attending will have an idea of the cross-section of society that will be at our reception. The Young Adults (ages 16-ish thru 30) have the highest attendance, at about 55 or so. After them, we have about 15 Adults (our parents' ages), a dozen Kids (under 14 or so), and four Grandparents.

The honeymoon is going to be in Cummington, Massachusetts, so I won't have internet access for that entire week, just so you won't yell about a lack of post-wedding updates. We're heading out early Monday morning (after one day of wedding decompression) to arrive there Monday night — it's a 10 to 12 hour drive. On the agenda is (1) eating lobster, (2) whale-watching, (3) seeing Boston, (4) buying maple syrup, and (5) visiting Mt. Greylock.

Why Cummington? Because Aaron's grandmother owns a house there, and rents apartments out of it. We'll be staying in the apartment she reserves for herself when she goes up to visit her tenants for three weeks out of the year.

Feel free to e-mail or call me to chat about the wedding... This wedding thing is making me necessarily more social than usual. :-) See you on Friday, if not before!

SSDD (Same Shit, Different Day)

So, I'm starting to get used to this regularly-updating thing. Since mid-month, I've updated at least every three days. Considering that March only had six updates total, I think I'm doing better. ^_^

That said, there's not much to report today. Finally put all my mp3 CDs in my old CD wallet and brought it to work, after ousting the old homeless CD-ROMs that had been living in it. Got out of work waaay early: before 4:00. Hung out with Aaron, packed up a long-overdue eBay package to Japan. Bounced on my new trampoline while watching the news. I've got stuff still to take care of, like messing with the logo for Sheryl's aunt's webpage and maybe repotting some plants or playing Civ III.

Slated for the remainder of the week:

• Wednesday: Meet with Reverend Dr. Diane during my lunch break to discuss wedding vows and ceremony.
• Thursday: Go to Sky Insurance in Maumee during my (extended) lunch break to interview for the position of Marketing Coordinator.
• Friday: (tentative) Meet with Dining Services to sign reception contract.
• Saturday: Waterville Community Garage Sale. Leave BG at 11am.

Bachelorette Fun

Saturday was the Bridal Extravaganza, just to inform those of you who (a) were there but don't remember, (b) couldn't make it due to other commitments, or (c) have a penis and so weren't invited.

Aaron and I were awakened by the phone at about 10:30am (which I tried to answer but picked up just in time for the answering machine to pick up, too, and start this righteous feedback). Good thing we were awake after that, though, 'cause Mom showed up at 11:15am, almost a full hour early.

The original plan was: Mom would show up at noon, and we'd go have lunch. Chris Walmsley, the Best Man, would show up around 1 or 1:30, and he and Aaron would go to lunch while Mom and I were chillin'. Amy would show up around 2:00, and us three girls would go do the BG Artwalk. All of us would reconvene at the house around 3:00, and the rest of the guys would show up. Us girls would head to Sheryl's apartment around 3:30ish for the party to start at 4:00, and the boys would head up to Windsor for their party. That's pretty much how it happened, too, except Mom showed up almost an hour early and Amy got caught in the insano Meijer while getting the cake, and had to miss the Artwalk and go directly to Sheryl's. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200.

So, that's how it happened. Mom and I left the boys around 3:30 and headed to Sheryl's by way of Kroger (to get ice cream and bags of ice). When we got there, Eric was just leaving, Amy was already there, and Sheryl had the place totally decked out with flowers and general prettiness and cleanliness. Hung out, had some munchies, marvelled at all the shit Sheryl had put together for my day. *tee-hee* Amanda showed up shortly thereafter, and we almost got worried about Andrea, who didn't show up until around 5:00 — just about in time for food.

After the gift-opening, of course.

Amy manned the digital camera and took pics of me opening up all my schwag, including a food processor, kitchen utensils, thongs, bras, a teddy, peppermint pecker candies, makeup, body butter, hemp lotion, and a partridge in a pear tree. So to speak. Then we had food.

Andrea is a veggie, so she got fettucini alfredo. The rest of us got one kickass pot roast. There was also salad, and corn-on-the-cob, and fresh green beans, and it was all sooooo good. Simple, yet quite yummy. Then we had some cake, and Mom bailed so she could get home to Cleveland before dark.

Mom's gone! Bust out the alcohol! :-)

Sheryl made some mudslides (just add ice), and we hung out in her computer room checking out the Webtender. And we played with DP (Sheryl's chinchilla). And I tried on one of my new bras with see-thru straps (and it made my boobs enormously threatening). And I read everyone a story about Anpanman (translated from Japanese by Sheryl's friend Mariko). And we went outside and tried to fly kites, but there was no wind. (Seriously. No wind in BG. It happened. I was there.) And we drank some mudslides. And I made myself an Amaretto Sour with the booze my Mom bought me. And, eventually, we all headed over to my place before walking downtown for some drinking and debauchery.

Amy and Sheryl drove, and we hung out at my place for only a few minutes — long enough for everyone to go pee and for us to decide we were going to Brewster's. It's not a hoochie-bar: no dance floor, just tables and booths and a bar and live music (for a while). We walked the few blocks to Brewster's, skirting the Rocky Horror crowd on the way, and found out there was only a $2 cover. Sheryl paid for me. Yay! We got a booth near the back, and listened to the mildly inoffensive live band. All four girls each bought me a drink, and I requested something different each time. After the three mudslides and the Amaretto Sour I had at Sheryl's, I then had another Amaretto Sour, a Screwdriver, a Whiskey Sour, and a White Russian (well, Andrea spilled most of the first White Russian all over the table and floor, so I guess I had one-and-a-third White Russians). This was over the course of a couple few hours, during which we really had a kickass time talking and laughing and carrying-on. Of the people there, I think only Amy had seen me completely drunk before (since I so rarely drink, and very rarely get blitzed), so it was a new and fun experience for all, I'm sure. :-)

Somewhere around 11:30pm (Rocky Horror hadn't started yet), we left the bar and attempted to find somewhere new to drink up. The next un-hoochie-fied place we could think of was Howard's — but it turned out that the cover was $5, since they had "a bunch of DJ's" there, according to the doorguy. We opted to just go back to my place. Sheryl and Amy went back to Sheryl's apartment to fetch the booze, while I showed Amanda and Andrea the apartment, particularly the computer/media room. Aaron's 8-tracks were a hit, as were all of our books and DVDs.

At some point, I announced that I was really fucked up. Which I was. Either that, or someone installed a moving floor in the computer room. At any rate, Andrea announced in turn that she was preparing to add to that, and proceeded to dig out of her pockets a baggie with a couple joints' worth of weed, plus rolling papers. She said she brought them for the "special occasion." As she was in the midst of rolling, Amy and Sheryl came back with the cooler of pop and booze, so Amanda and I left Andrea to finish rolling and headed back out to the living room. I put some music in the CD changer (Soledad Brothers, Flaming Lips, Matthew Sweet, Catherine Wheel, and the Afghan Whigs), and we all hung out and talked for a while.

Once 1am rolled around, Sheryl was falling asleep in her bowl of munchies and Andrea was ready to spark up. Sheryl took this opportunity to leave before the pot made her fall asleep where she sat. We were all worried that it had made her uncomfortable, but it turned out she really was just tired.

(Now, folks, I know that a publicly-accessible blog isn't generally the wisest place to discuss illegal activities, like "doing drugs" — oooooooh *collective gasp* — but it was how the evening ended, and it was a new experience for me. So I'm going to trust that no future employers are going to Google "Diana Cook marijuana" anytime in the future, and continue with my story.)

Understand, I've never even smoked a cigarette in my life. So, here we all were, crowding about Andrea in my living room. Amy was Designated Driver, so she wasn't even drinking, and she's not a big pot fan, anyway. Her brother's a bit of a pot fiend, and his memory suffers because of it, apparently. So, Amy was out, which left me, Andrea, and Amanda to pass around the Bachelorette Party Joint. Andrea explained to both of us the mechanics of smoking a joint, I lit up some incense, and the joint was lit and passed to me.

My first impressions: drawing fiery-hot smoke into your lungs makes your throat burn. Seeing smoke exhale from your own non-smoker's mouth is unsettling. Not coughing on the very first drag, however, feels like some sort of accomplishment.

After the third hit, I finally started coughing, and I had to pass on the rest of the joint. My throat was on fire, and the taste of burnt paper and weed was far back in my mouth. I was no more messed up than I had been, though, so I sat down and waited for something to happen.

Which it did.

At the risk of sounding like a total retard, I'll describe kind of what it was like. I felt like I was in a sea of chinchilla fur, in low gravity or molasses or something. I'd turn my head from one side of the room to the other, to look from Andrea to Amanda, and my chinchilla fur aura would drag behind me as I turned my head, pulling around to the other side and rebounding slowly like a cartoon from the opposite side once I focused on my target. (Sure it makes no sense. It's not supposed to.)

At any rate, I sat there enjoying the sensation of being drunk and high, feeling rather naughty on some level, noticing that Amy looked awfully uncomfortable with the whole thing, but just chilling out and having a good time on another level.

Around 2:15am, the guys came home. Aaron, Chris, Kris H., Mark, and Aaron's brother Matt all funneled into the room (Jesse and Kris Fries had already gone home), and realized there was nowhere to sit. :-) Aaron took the couch with Amanda, Matt left, and Kris and Mark hung out for awhile before they too left. Amy rounded up Amanda and Andrea, and they all headed back to their respective places: Andrea to her car at Sheryl's, to drive back to Medina; Amanda to her apartment, two blocks from Sheryl's place; and Amy to her hotel room in town. Chris had dibs on our couch.

So, that was the bridal shower / bachelorette party. In case you were wondering, no, I didn't precisely have a hangover on Sunday... more of an all-day exhaustion thing. No surprize, considering. :-)

(By the way, you can read Sheryl's version of the night, too.)

Blah Blah Blog

Despite all the depresso ranting and raving I've done in my recent entries, I'm really not all that depressed. I promise. It's just that the vaguely happy things that happen never make it to the blog.

Got home at 4:50pm after making a pit stop on the way from work to gas up Aaron's car. And he'd already left for work. Poopstain. At least he left me some stuffed crust frozen pizza in the fridge, though. Yum.

Just called Andrea's cell and left a message. Apparently her voicemail is set on one minute, because I timed it out. :-) Asked her if she'd be able to make it to the bachelorette party and bridal shower this weekend, told her it would be cool if she could make it since I haven't seen her in so long, asked her if she'd gotten her dress yet, and finally got the guts to tell her that if she's not into the whole bridesmaid thing, because she's too busy or it's a weird time in her life or something like that, she can back out and won't hurt my feelings. The voicemail cut me off just as I was reiterating that she needed to get back to me. Hopefully that'll inspire her to give me a call sometime soon. If not... I'm not sure what to do.

Bounced my first check the other day. Twelve-dollar check, and got charged a $30 NSF fee. That blows. When I balanced my checkbook today, I realized I was in danger of doing it again, so I transferred some money from my savings to my checking. Now I'm covered. Whew.

Today was Mary's last day in the Lockbox Department at work. Our supervisors bought an assload of cookies and cupcakes, so I munched on them all day and didn't eat my nutritious lunch. At any rate, Mary's husband works in the department she's moving to: Loan Servicing. I don't think he's her supervisor, but they're closer on the org chart now. Mary has informed me that her husband would take me into his department anytime I wanted, so that'll be a good 'out' if I don't find another job by the middle of June or so.

I figured out my demands, in case the Lockbox Department wants to beg me to stay (which is unlikely, but I can dream). Since they won't be able to guarantee stable hours, which would be ideal, I will instead ask for a 6% pay increase, effective ASAP but no later than the beginning of third quarter (October). I wanted to say second quarter (July), but they probably already have the budget laid out for second quarter. Again, I don't think it'll happen, but I wanted to have my demands ready, just in case anyone were to ask what would keep me in Lockbox.

Well, I think that was a good, sufficiently undepressed update. Hmm, no, wait. I complained about shit the whole entry. Hang on... Oh, I know.

I'm getting married exactly one month from today! Tee-hee-hee! *girlie giggles*

There. Happiness. I am now going to post stuff on eBay and work on graphics for Sheryl's Aunt's online store.

P.S. - Hey, Donna? Here's Karma Police, just for you.

Karma Police

...arrest this girl
she takes for granted
the people she shouldn't
and she drives so recklessly

this is what you get
this is what you get
this is what you get
when you mess with us...

When I was planning this entry (all day at work), it was originally going to be quite woe-is-me, and perhaps even a bit guilt-trippy. See, Amy (maid of honor, duh) informed me yesterday that the bridal shower / bachelorette party is going to consist of myself, Amy, Sheryl, and my Mom. That's it. The end. Then I got an e-mail from the wife of one of Aaron's friends (which makes us all friends, I suppose) who said that, since she's with child, she wanted to offer up herself as a Designated Driver. Cool. I forwarded that on to Amy. Then I was bitching at work today about my severe lack of friendage, and A said she'd go to the shower and party. Which could be interesting, since I don't know how she'll mingle with the current attendees, but I'll take any participation I can get at this point. I went against my own better judgment and checked my TagBoard at work today, too, and saw that Beth has to work and Donna has a concert to attend in Toledo. Both good, valid excuses, and apologetically offered.

So, that kind of mellowed me out.

I'm still pissed at myself for this doozie, though: I got my first-ever speeding ticket today. Those of you who know BG, the cop was stationed on Seventh and Manville while I was cruising north down Manville, toward Wooster. I saw him and hit my brakes, but it was too late. He'd already clocked me going 41 in a 25. A says I was too calm; I should have been more nervous or cried or been mad or something. As it was, I accepted my fate politely and quietly. And my fine of $85.

See, for the past two weeks, I've been thinking, "One of these days, I'm going to be speeding down this road, and there'll be a cop sitting there at Sixth Street..." Well, I was one street off, but I knew it was coming. That's why I didn't complain or fuss. I had it coming to me.

Same with the shower, I guess, and my less-than-communicative bridesmaids. When you don't make a concerted effort to stay in touch with your friends, and delete all the stupid forwards they send you instead of actual personal messages, then something important comes up that you feel they should be involved in, and they don't (or can't) make time for it, that's just karma coming around to bite you in the ass. And I'm OK with that — well, as much as can be expected. I do wish I could have had a big, crazy bridal shower and bachelorette party. Kathy (the DD mentioned above) had at least a dozen people at her shower (I was one), and her bridesmaids and a couple close friends (not me) all showed up for her bachelorette party. I guess I'm just jealous, maybe. It'll be fun, anyhow. I know it will.

In other news, I posted for a new job at Sky. Sky Insurance in Maumee has an opening for a Marketing Coordinator, which involves planning and designing ad campaigns and PR materials. I really did just want a lateral transfer to something in my field, but this is more of a promotion to a management position. I mean, I'll take it if they feel I'm qualified, but I have this feeling I'm not. Not at all. At least this job doesn't require "licensing" like the last Marketing job I tried to post for. At any rate, if I don't have a new position lined up within Sky by the time I'm getting ready to get married and take my honeymoon vacation time, I have every intention of finding another job outside Sky.

I mean, I don't want to leave the company after only seven months — I just started my 401(k), I get two weeks' vacation and five personal/sick days every year, I get annual raises of roughly 10%, and my quarterly reviews have been favorable so far. But I'm willing to look for something more related to my field and with more stable hours and with better pay, and sacrifice my three weeks' paid time off for something less grandiose.

I keep saying that I'm biding my time and waiting for the right opportunity to come along. But with Mary leaving the department at the end of this week, A leaving at the end of next week, and Loni intending to leave within the month, I refuse to be stuck working the 70-hour weeks that the resultant workload would force upon me. Part of me hates to leave it to poor Rama (a temp who's just started training on Citation this week) and Sharon (the older woman who's been with Sky for 10+ years) and the new temp and Andrew (our "Team Leader"). But another part of me says this is my opportunity to get while the gettin's good.

And I think the rest of me agrees.

Girl Talk and Power Outages

I got home from work today around 5:30pm, just in time to have missed Aaron before he went off to work himself. Sigh... But on a good note, I noticed that both my giant 20-disc CD-R trade (lots of The Smiths, The Cure, and similar bands) and my order from Lane Bryant had arrived.

Some of you may not know about Lane Bryant, be you a "normal-sized" woman or just a guy. Lane Bryant caters to the larger woman, sizes 14 to 28. — Guys, you'll be clueless on the size thing. Let's say that your average height, average weight (not-too-waify, not-too-fat) female is probably a size 12 or so. Maybe a 10.

(Hey, guys? If you're squeamish about girlie talk, skip down a few paragraphs. I'm going to talk about my new bra now.)

When I was out lingerie-shopping with Sheryl on Saturday, we visited a place called That Special Woman. It's actually a mastectomy-supply boutique, but they also carry plus-size lingerie and undergarments, to our surprize. When we arrived, the attendant ushered me into a fitting room and took my measurements, then brought me a few actual bras before I could announce my intentions to look for a long-line or bustier. Anyway, I did try on one of the bras she brought in... and holy crap, that thing was comfy! OMFG. It was an underwire, but the cleavage part didn't stick out all funny like some of them do, and the back was plenty supportive. It didn't threaten to pull up between my shoulder blades after a few moments of wear.

This bra, I later discovered, cost between $40 and $50. Holy crap.

So... a few days later, I visited lanebryant.com. — Actually, I visited several online stores looking for a bra just like the one I'd tried on, but Lane Bryant was the first and only place where I actually found one in my size. OK, girls, if you have big titties, or you're a "husky" girl, I recommend this bra. Just like the one I tried on in Toledo, it has full-coverage cups, non-sticky-outtie underwires, a stay-in-place back, and it's made of a neat-feeling cotton/Lycra blend, too. Honestly... it makes me want to squeeze my boobies like one of those stress-reliever things you see in Spencer Gifts. TMI... sorry. The underwires still get me in the armpits, though. I don't think there's any solving that issue.

(Hey, guys? You can come back now. It's safe.)

After parading around in my new get-up, I reclothed myself, sat down at my computer (which had been left on to allow fellow WinMX'ers to download from me), and prepared to check my e-mail.

Cue loud, echoing, percussive noise from outside and resulting instant silence inside. Only sound: that of my hard drive spinning down. A transformer had blown, and I was in silence (but not yet darkness).

First action: look outside. I saw the neighbors congregating across the street, so I threw on a ratty old black cardigan and some shoes and went out to hobnob. The guy who lives on the corner had already gotten out the cell and phoned the city. Looked like he was still in his work clothes: dress pants, crisp collared shirt. I wandered across to the other neighbors, catty-cornered from us. I met Toby (I think), Danny (short for Danielle?) and her husband Rob (Ron?), and a few others. We chatted for a while about how much we like the neighborhood, how we got to live here, how nice this side of town is (away from the bar crawl), etc. Eventually Toby's wife had to go get grilling-out supplies, so we all dispersed from their driveway and went back to our own houses.

The power still wasn't on, and it was almost thinking about getting on to dusk, but not quite. So on to the second action: get out the candles. It's not dark yet, but who knows when it will be. I'd rather be prepared than fumbling around looking for the lighter. I managed to locate one votive in a tulip-stem holder; two votives in short, roundish holders; one votive in the snowman my Mom gave me for Christmas; and one scented candle-in-a-jar from my grandmother. I lit them all and placed them strategically around the apartment. Then it occured to me that I wanted to go trim the hedges, so I blew them all out but two. :-)

Watered the houseplants, trimmed the hedges. As I was outside, I saw a relatively rare occurence: there were people outside. Danny, her husband, and their neighbors had started a pick-up game of basketball — "PIG" or "HORSE" or something like that. Neighborhood kids were biking, skateboarding, and inline skating up and down the street, and some of them joined the game. Neighbors peeked their heads out to see if the city had come out yet, and some still milled about, meeting one another.

I finished pruning, went back inside, got my book and headed back out to sit on the front steps. (Or the "front stoop," as my Mom or Memaw would call it.) Reading was actually a facade — I was listening to the b-ball game ("How old are you? Thirteen?"), watching the kids skate up and down the street, quipping very junior-high-ish rips on one another, and eventually watching the city workers fix the transformer up the road. Once my porch light came back on, I retreated back indoors. Others didn't, though — the game went on, at least until the families' respective cookouts were ready for consumption.

It occured to me after this minor incident that the invention and maintreaming of electricity was probably one of the first steps toward the decline of the family and community. I won't say I'd rather be without it, and I won't say that it's done more harm than good. I will say, though, that the hour that the block was without electricity was probably the most social hour I've seen here.

Think about it: you can't watch TV, listen to the radio, play PS2/Gamecube/X-Box, play on the internet... what can you do? Read. Do something creative. Socialize. Gossip, even. When it gets dark, you light a candle, read or write by the flickering flame, talk with family, and go to bed. Simple.

The days before electricity had to be so different... it's hard even to imagine.

T-minus Two Months...

Yep... I'll be Mrs. Schnuth in about 60 days. Kinda scary in a cool kind of way.

I guess I should keep all the girls who read this updated on the wedding planning thing. Oh, yeah, and maybe Dan and Eric will be moderately interested, too. :-)

Well, Sheryl has been kind enough to act as a surrogate bridesmaid while I've been getting my dress altered, traipsing 20 minutes north to Rossford on Tuesday, then on Saturday, then again a couple weeks from now. She's also helped me find some appropriate undergarments, since the neat thingy I bought online totally peeks out of the back and armpits of my dress. Gah. Anyway, I'm sure she's seen more of my pale flesh than she ever bargained for.

I was totally lucky to get as nice of a dress as I did for only $99 on eBay. (The auction's expired now, but once the wedding's done and Aaron's seen the dress, I'll post up the auction page that I saved.) I'm not used to wearing form-fitting apparel, so the dress actually makes me feel thinner, I think.

Speaking of... Now that I've been on a weight-loss kick (sort of) for four or five months, making a graph of my weight as I go, I can really tell when I gain my monthly few pounds. My graph makes a pretty picture like waves now. :-) I've pretty much accepted the fact that I'll look like I do now at the wedding. I won't look like I did during drumcorps, and I won't look like I did even five years ago. (Would you believe I put on 50 pounds between 1997 and the year 2000? Seriously. That's amazing to me. What's even more amazing is how much longer than that it'll take to get that weight back off...)

This week's goal is to take two walks daily, preferably after meals. Should be a good week for it, except for Sunday, when snow flurries may rear their ugly heads.

Man, my writing is all over the place today. I can't seem to concentrate on one topic long enough to get a good thing going. Bah. Maybe I should go watch the news... although I know what'll be on.

Fragile Moods

Lately, my emotional state has been unusually unstable. At work, I just zone out and do what has to be done, so I don't really consider myself to be in a bad mood, even if I look it. But once I get home, one little insignificant thing can puncture any good mood I've cultivated and put me on a ridiculous downward spiral.

For example (you knew it was coming), today I got home before 6:00. Nice, normal day at work. Not long, not stressful. Got my raise information from my boss, got home in time for the news. Was planning to vacuum the kitchen (seriously - it's carpeted) or clean the skanky tub or something after dinner, plus research embroidery websites so I can see what not to do on Sheryl's and my new web venture. I was proud of myself yesterday for shaking the internet addiction and not even booting up my computer when I got home from work, so I knew I'd have oodles of e-mail waiting for me. So, after eating some pierogies, I fired up the Sheryl Special to see who loved me.

I got three e-mails from Amy, and I knew what they had to be... berating me for not mailing her the vital color swatch for her bridesmaid's dress. I was right. She gave me a dressing-down like I deserved. Nonetheless, it still punctured my good mood. (Not your fault, Amy. You needed to give me a swift kick in the ass.) So, for the past hour or so, I've been kind of deflated. That one thing really brought my excitement about the evening to a dead standstill. That's not right. I shouldn't be this volatile. Not even a tagboard post from Timmay managed to cheer me up.

My last post dealt with a similar situation; this is becoming a trend of sorts.

What is wrong with me? It can't just be wedding planning... can it?

Later today...

The internet is an amazing place. I was just thinking of a poem my mother used to read to me when I was little. She had a whole notebook of poems and sayings she'd collected. (I wish I knew where that notebook was.) I used to have the poem memorized, but I couldn't recall how it started, so I Googled a line I knew for sure. Sure enough, 48 hits came back, all including this untitled poem. I found a good site about it, with all the backstory anyone knows about it compiled together.

So, here it is, the way my mother used to read it to me, including the intro:

This poem was handed to a teacher by a 12th grade student. It is not known if the student actually wrote it himself; it is known that he committed suicide two weeks later.

He always wanted to explain things
But no one cared
So he drew
Sometimes he would draw and it wasn't anything
He wanted to carve it in stone
Or write it in the sky
He would lie out on the grass
And look up at the sky
And it would be only the sky and him that needed saying
And it was after that
He drew the picture

It was a beautiful picture
He kept it under his pillow
And would let no one see it
And he would look at it every night
And think about it
And when it was dark
And his eyes were closed
He could still see it
And it was all of him
And he loved it

When he started school he brought it with him
Not to show anyone but just to have it with him
Like a friend
It was funny about school
He sat in a square brown desk
Like all the other square brown desks
And he thought it should be red
And his room was a square brown room
Like all the other rooms
And it was tight and close
And stiff
He hated to hold the pencil and chalk
With his arms stiff and his feet flat on the floor
Stiff
With the teacher watching
And watching
The teacher came and smiled at him
She told him to wear a tie
Like all the other boys
He said he didn't like them
And she said it didn't matter!
After that they drew
And he drew all yellow
And it was the way he felt about morning
And it was beautiful
The teacher came and smiled at him
"What's this?" she said
"Why don't you draw something like Ken's drawing?"
"Isn't that beautiful?"

After that his mother bought him a tie
And he always drew airplanes and rocket ships
Like everyone else
And he threw the old picture away
And when he lay out alone and looked out at the sky
It was big and blue and all of everything
But he wasn't anymore
He was square inside and brown
And his hands were stiff
And he was like everyone else
And the things inside him that needed saying
Didn't need it anymore
It had stopped pushing
It was crushed
Stiff
Like everything else.

Great Weekend

This weekend was the most fun and productive one I've had in a while. Saturday started off with lunch (of course), followed by the Wedding Fair at the small (aka Woodland Towne Centre). There, we ate some yummy moist wedding cake, avoided the DJs, talked to photographers, and ended up choosing one. She has interesting, professional-looking work; she has a good sense of humor; and she has very competitive prices. We scheduled a meeting at her studio for the following day at 7:30pm for contract-signing and an engagement sitting.

After the Wedding Fair was an attempt at the monthly BG Flea Market, held at the fairgrounds. However, by this point it was after 3:00, and most of the vendors were closing up shop. We walked in, saw this, and opted to wait until Sunday. So, we went to Wal-Mart instead.

At Wal-Mart, we got some basic necessities, like new dress pants for me and a can of compressed air for my streaky laser printer. Then back home to chill for a couple hours before heading back out again.

That evening, we met a couple of friends up at the Red Robin in Toledo for dinner. Excellent food, great alcoholic milkshakes, biggest BBQ Chicken salad in the known universe. Weirdest mascot you've ever seen. It's a giant red robin (go figure), in the new-Freddy-Falcon style, for those of you from BGSU. You know, the cartoony-looking Freddy with the creepy big eyes and huge smiling beak. Mark got a picture of Aaron with the scary robin dude. We'll see how that turns out.

Anyway, after dinner, we still had a couple hours before we had to be at Frankie's, our destination point for the evening. So, we hung out in Barnes & Noble. Aaron & Kris both bought William Gibson's new novel, Pattern Recognition, and I bought a copy of Asimov's Science Fiction Magazine. We tried to waste a decent amount of time there, but eventually we decided to go seek out Frankie's, where none of us had been for years (and some of us never).

Back in the heyday of the Alternative Music Scene, Frankie's was apparently the place to be to see great bands like Goober & the Peas, the Afghan Whigs, the Smashing Pumpkins, Pure, and dozens of other groups whose flyers are posted on Frankie's Wall of Fame. Now, though... Frankie's has turned into a bit of a dive. Unbeknownst to us, of course, until we found the place and wandered into the cold, dim bar.

After the door-dude found us and took our seven bucks apiece, we wandered about, reading the Wall of Fame and wondering what the hell happened. As the first "band," MC Habitat, was setting up its turntables and mics, we made a break for the outer room, where lived two pool tables (in use), six chairs, and three dirty tables. We pulled a table from against the wall, found four chairs without too many tears in their linings, and proceeded to sit and freeze our asses off.

We sat there for an hour.

Finally, after one of our friends came to join us and promptly gave up and left, and a few of Kris's friends (who are also friends of the band we were there to see) showed up and said hello, and after our tizoes and nizoes were frizoze, we decided to go check out band number two of three: The Satisfactions. This band is from BG, which gave us pause. Historically, very few bands from Bowling Green have amounted to shit. The Satisfactions were no exception. Their set started out mediocre, and only went downhill. By the end of the set, the lead singer took notice that the crowd (except their groupies) no longer gave a shit about their music, and decided to go climb on the light rig just above the stage. When he didn't fall and crack his fool head open, or bring the lights crashing down on everyone, he climbed back down and lay on the floor in the midst of the disinterested crowd to sing the remainder of the penultimate song.

The final number of their set took the proverbial cake, though. The opening riff reminded me of a song I knew, and I tried to pin it down as they sang the first verse. I still hadn't figured it out when Kris poked his head in between Aaron's and mine and started singing, "I'm comin' baaaack with my dinosaur aaaact..." Their chord structure was an exact mimic (OK, ripoff) of Matthew Sweet's song "Dinosaur Act," from the 1993 album Altered Beast. We sang the chorus a couple times, as the band sang the words to their own little song. Then, mercifully, they were done.

After that came the band we'd actually gone to see: The Soledad Brothers. (You know, I think eventually I'll put all these paragraphs into my reviews section...) The Toledo-based Soledads were once a two-piece, but have added another Brother to the mix, to make one drummer, one guitarist/lead vocalist, and one guitarist/saxophonist. This is the most explosive band I have ever seen live. The genre is blues. The atmosphere is electric. The volume is loud.

Yeah... I think I'll expound later in my reviews section. At any rate, we got out of there at around 2am. Kick-ass show. Amazing. I've never seen anything like it. Go to their website and take a listen, though they're much better live than in the studio, IMO.

So, Sunday morning/afternoon rolled around, and Sheryl called. She wanted to go to the Flea Market. Well, I'll be damned... so did we. We told her we'd give her a call when we were going to head out there. We finished waking up and getting ready, then called Sheryl and left a message to meet us at said Flea Market at two o'clock. And we went to have our lunch at the China Dragon. Yummy.

When we got to the fairgrounds, Sheryl was inside waiting. She surprized the hell out of us by giving us the gift of a prepaid cell phone. Apparently, her Japanese friend Mariko was going to come visit, and Sheryl had gotten her the phone for her stay. But... Japan says that the U.S. is going to war in March, and that was going to be when Mariko's return trip would have been. So, she opted out of the visit, leaving Sheryl with much unhappiness and a paid-for cell phone.

But once again, the BG Flea Market was unfulfilling. The only real amusement came from the generic Ken-doll look-alikes, dressed in full 80's gay regalia, with black mesh tops and shiny shorts. We made the rounds of the building, thanked Sheryl and bid her adieu, and headed off to do our grocery shopping.

Usually, we do shopping and laundry on Sunday evening. But, since we were planning to go meet with our photographer in the evening, we'd had to rearrange our little schedule. So, off to do shopping and laundry. Fun times.

By the time we were finished with laundry, it was time to get ready for engagement photos and head off to Fostoria. We'd never been to Fostoria, so driving at night in the boonies was a lot of fun. Anyway, we got there with little incident, and found the studio no problem.

Carol Creeger reminds me of someone's mom. She has an open and honest sense of humor about her, but is totally professional about her work. We sat down and completed the contract first, with her giving us some time to discuss while she set up the studio for our portraits. Once all the details were ironed out, she gave us the nickel tour of the studio and got us ready for our sitting. She shot digital, which was excellent; she got to see the images as she took them, and got to get our approval before keeping them. We got a feel for how she works, and she got a feel for what we like. I only had to mention my stupid double-chin once before she adjusted our posing and her lighting to make it disappear. We also learned not to make Diana say anything silly before taking the exposure, because Diana's eyebrows go up and her mouth looks funny. :-)

After the sitting (which was short and sweet), she showed us around her office, and we just shot the shit for a few minutes before Aaron wrote her the check for the deposit. The engagement sitting is included, and we'll get a matted 8x10 of one photo for guest signatures. We can also order reprints — we'll probably get some wallets for $15 a dozen, which isn't unreasonable. Two weeks before the wedding, we need to send her the remaining balance plus our sheet of necessary shots. Overall, we came away from Carol's studio with an overwhelming sense of relief, and the knowledge that we will have some quality photos of our wedding day.

Nine o'clock. Hungry. Dinnertime, chillin' out time, TV time, printer-cleaning time, computer time. Which then brings us to now. Which is midnight. Bedtime.

General crap

I don't update this thing enough. There are people out there who update their blogs / journals / diaries / what-have-you on a daily basis. Me, I'm probably one of the people who pisses off my friends during their daily blog-checks. (If you have a page linked from mine: yes, I do check your page every day to see if there's something new.)

So... what's up in my life. Yesterday our temp was sick with the flu and called off work. We'd gotten so used to having three people to do the work of, oh, two-and-a-half, that being one person short on a Monday really threw us for a loop. Loni and I parceled out A's work betwixt the two of us, and somehow managed to get through the morning. I opted to skip lunch (bad idea) and worked straight into the afternoon. Loni had to leave at 6:00pm to go to a church function (as usual on Mondays), which then left me and my supervisor to run the systems. Keep in mind that my supe doesn't really know how to run the Citation systems very well. So, by 9:00 at night, I was still processing work, along with my supervisor and the upper-middle-aged woman who was previously banned from running the systems due to her immense number of fuck-ups and bizarro computer errors.

Let's hear it for twelve-hour days.
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In contrast, today was nice. I got to come in at 10am, and leave at 4:00pm. Super-light workload, pleasant day, sunshine streaming through the blinds. Got home in time to spend some time with Aaron before he went to work, which is always neat.

As far as wedding crap goes: I'm almost dressed. I have my dress, crinoline (aka poofy hoop skirt), veil, and corset. I still need shoes, and some sort of headpiece. I had decided I didn't want a headpiece, but I'm not sure what I'm going to do with my hair if I don't have one. I'd also thought of having my hair down, but I think it looks a little funky underneath the veil, so ix-nay on that. My Mom will have a cow, but it can't be avoided.

Aaron and I also went shopping for accessories and color swatches this past weekend. My burgundy color has somehow morphed into a pretty cinnamon, which is OK by me. We found some ribbon for the centerpieces first.

— No, wait. First came Aaron's discovery at the Dollar Tree in the small last week. He saw a shelf of nifty little vase-glasses, about 8 inches tall (or maybe six, I'm not positive) with a wine-glass stem and a curvy shape. He pointed to them and said, "Those would make good centerpieces."

[light streaming from sky, angels singing in chorus, herald trumpets sounding]

I bought ten of them: one each for nine tables, plus one extra for when I break one.

So, this past weekend, Aaron and I got eight yards of ribbon from Ben Franklin, and three square yards of matching cloth and some pinking shears from Wal-Mart. We also discovered that Wal-Mart has a wedding supplies aisle in the crafts section of the store. I could buy my throw-away garter (in white or light blue), bits and pieces for my headpiece, even a veil. (Doh!)

Anyway, next on the wedding-crap list is a.) book a photographer, and b.) let my bridesmaids know WTF's going on with dresses. Oh, yeah, didn't tell you about that, did I? I've decided to let my bridesmaids pick out their own individual dresses. I'm sending them fabric swatches and guidelines: ankle-length dress, rounded neckline (scoop, tank, ballet, whatever). Tan hose, black flats. The end. I haven't broken the news to Amy yet (she's my maid of honor, for anyone who's been out to lunch this whole time), but she should be happy, considering that she's been politely reminding me that I've been slacking off in my bridal duties. I figure, with the extremes in size and shape that I have with my ladeez, doing things this way will make things cheaper and easier for them, plus they'll be able to choose their own cut and style.

Um... I think I've updated sufficiently now. Yeah.

Wedding Dress Purchased!

For only $99 + shipping, I have purchased a wedding dress on eBay. (I'd tell you all about it, but Aaron isn't allowed to see. So, you can look at it on eBay — that is, if you're not Aaron.)

The University was supposed to get back to me by today about reserving the Union, but (surprise of surprises) I haven't heard from them.

So, my invitation stationery is en route via UPS, scheduled for delivery on Wednesday, and my wedding dress is in the UPS tracking system, although it has not necessarily started its actual journey.

Happy Happy Joy Joy, Happy Happy Joy Joy...

Wedding Obsession -- er, Planning -- Continues

This evening, on WeddingChannel.com, I discovered something that disturbed me as I had not been disturbed since discovering the Tony Hawk Pro Skater Create-A-Skater mode.

The link said, "try on gowns on a model that looks like you!" I shrugged and clicked like the trained internet monkey that I am. After a few minutes of clicking and thinking, thinking and clicking, then a little gasping and rethinking and clicking again, I created VirtuaDiana. Fortunately or not, the gown sizes available required me to downsize VirtuaDiana from current actual size to projected wedding-day size. This will require a weight loss of 1.4 lbs per week from this week until the wedding day. It could happen.

(As a side note... I've noticed that VirtuaDiana's breasteses are severely lacking. Her only choices, unfortunately, were small-med and med-large. The Create-A-Model designers failed to take into account those of us with a large build who count on our enormous hooters to balance us out.)

In related news, today I played Dance Dance Revolution 3rd Mix for 15 minutes in Diet Mode, and also discovered that pomegranate seeds a.) are a good snack, and b.) are a good carpet dye.

Wedding Planning Actually Begins

Finally, I've put money toward something. I bought Do-It-Yourself invitations online today. Seventy-five invitations with envelopes and 100 reply cards with envelopes cost me a little more than I'd wanted to pay for DIY invites, but $70 is still a decent price for some quality stuff. Fire up ye olde laser printer, and I'll be set.

So, we've got the invitations covered. We've got Prout Chapel reserved. The University still hasn't gotten back to us about the reception site. I still need to find a dress. We still need to find an officiant...

Well, at least we've gotten some stuff done...

Sweet Dreams are Made of These

You know how, before the first day of school, you would have those "I was at school and didn't know what my classes were and it was the day of a test and I forgot my pants" dreams? This weekend, I had my first pre-wedding dream. Seven months till D-Day, and already I'm having them.

The wedding was out in the country, at someone's house. We had to drive out there, and I think I had to go quickly from somewhere. Work or something. At any rate, I had to let my bridesmaids pack my bag and all my stuff, including dress, shoes, hair thingies, change of clothes, etc. Amy (my maid of honor) must have been meeting us later or something, because Mel (bridesmaid #2) was driving me out to the wedding site. We had a tender moment in the car, regarding how much I trusted the judgement of my closest friends, and that's why I chose them all to join my in my special day.

When we got there, I had to go in the bathroom and change into my wedding garb. Instead of having one of my ladies come in with me, I had my mom help me out. I laid out all my stuff on the floor outside the bathroom door and came to some realizations: 1.) My dress was not pressed; 2.) All I had for hose were the knee-hi's I wear to work; 3.) I had never gotten my dress altered.

I'll stop the dream account there, because I distinctly remember some evil magical thing happening in the house, me having to carry my dress elsewhere, and two guests being turned into puppy dogs.

2 April 2001

For those of you who haven't gotten to see "the rock" yet, I decided to post a couple of pics to satisfy the womenfolk out there. (Most of my menfolk friends don't really seem to care what I'm wearing on my hand. Go figure.)

I haven't really had the opportunity to give this page the attention I had originally intended. I guess ASP goodies will be added when I'm caught up on classwork and projects for my job... [sigh]

19 March 2001

The most incredible thing happened to me on Saturday the 10th. No, it wasn't just me preparing for a stunning Spring Break in Parma, Ohio.

Aaron, my boyfriend of five years, proposed to me.

So... not only am I now a freelance Graphic Designer for my step-Gary's company, CMM Specialists, but I'm also Aaron Schnuth's fiancee.

Yeah... it may have been a less-than-perfect Spring Break, but at least I got to stare at my .38 carat rock for a week and think about my fiance...