A rough list. I want to keep it small, I hate having to lug around to much stuff. It just seems wasteful to spend all that time and money carting clothes back and forth across the ocean.
Unlike Ireland I'm doubting I'll be purchasing too many clothes.
Shorts (2 pair?)
T-Shirts (4 pair?)
Long sleeve\ button up shirts (2 pair?)
Pants (1 pair)
Jeans (1 pair)
Bathing Suit
Socks
Underwear
Sandals
Good shoes
Running shoes (I don’t really want to bring 3 pairs of shoes)
Showing posts with label wedding stuff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wedding stuff. Show all posts
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Monday, July 28, 2008
Your honour, I’d like to enter a plea of ‘boys will be boys’.
Edited for the reading pleasure of those with delicate sensibilities. More quotes to potentially come as bachelor party participants sober up and reluctantly return to their computers.
1. My (censored) glowed in the dark.
2. Hello there little boys
3. No running shoes, no sandals, no running shoes, no running shoes ...
4. Let’s go easy tonight so that Saturday can be the real bender.
5. There are only so many back-to-back episodes of “Hannah Montana” that a person can take this early in the morning.
6. One more person get in the cab.
7. That tomato looks like (censored).
8. Shoe, Jeans, Deals, Deals!
9. Senor Pic-canty
10. I’ll never look at a spoon the same way again
11. Stay thirsty my friends
12. Man, Tele-Latino has some crazy stuff on Saturday night.
13. The Casino Niagara Theme Song (BA-daaaaaaa, ba-DAaaaaaaa…)
14. Awwww, man, I just took her head clean off
15. dudedudedudedudedudedudedudedude
16. Here come the meat sweats.
17. I may not know you by Tim Hortons.
18. Why are there two shower heads?
1. My (censored) glowed in the dark.
2. Hello there little boys
3. No running shoes, no sandals, no running shoes, no running shoes ...
4. Let’s go easy tonight so that Saturday can be the real bender.
5. There are only so many back-to-back episodes of “Hannah Montana” that a person can take this early in the morning.
6. One more person get in the cab.
7. That tomato looks like (censored).
8. Shoe, Jeans, Deals, Deals!
9. Senor Pic-canty
10. I’ll never look at a spoon the same way again
11. Stay thirsty my friends
12. Man, Tele-Latino has some crazy stuff on Saturday night.
13. The Casino Niagara Theme Song (BA-daaaaaaa, ba-DAaaaaaaa…)
14. Awwww, man, I just took her head clean off
15. dudedudedudedudedudedudedudedude
16. Here come the meat sweats.
17. I may not know you by Tim Hortons.
18. Why are there two shower heads?
Bachelor Party: Wrap up
Now that was a bachelor party.
Unfortunately, except for a few rare nuggets, the details of said party shall be forever lost in the mists of time. (What happens in the Falls, stays in the Falls)
But I think I can wrangle up a couple photos, a 'best of' quote list and maybe even a video or two.
Suffice to say that over the course of 72 hours I have never played so many cards, drank, smoked, and engaged in all manner of unhealthy activities that will probably plague me physically and mentally in the years to come, as I did this weekend.
Now to restart my kidneys and my brain.
Unfortunately, except for a few rare nuggets, the details of said party shall be forever lost in the mists of time. (What happens in the Falls, stays in the Falls)
But I think I can wrangle up a couple photos, a 'best of' quote list and maybe even a video or two.
Suffice to say that over the course of 72 hours I have never played so many cards, drank, smoked, and engaged in all manner of unhealthy activities that will probably plague me physically and mentally in the years to come, as I did this weekend.
Now to restart my kidneys and my brain.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Surprise party
I got sucker punched by a surprise party yesterday. I always thought the people in my office were a little slow on the uptake whenever the same thing happened to them.
"Hey you're going on maternity leave tomorrow, that's great. Oh, by the way, we're scheduling a last minute meeting on that day. But don't read anything into it."
"Hey you're going on maternity leave tomorrow, that's great. Oh, by the way, we're scheduling a last minute meeting on that day. But don't read anything into it."
My office got both of us a sizable gift certificate to William Ashley. I also got a seperate gift of some expensive cigars to smoke with the boys this weekend. The whole thing was a complete shock. I absolutely didn't see it coming and I was a little humbled when it happened.
Anyway, tomorrow marks the begining of Bachelor party weekend. Paintball, poker and golf. The best man is coming in from Ottawa and bunking on our couch tonight. Of course if you're one of the three people who happen to read this blog. Chances are I'll be seeing you there anyway.
If I'm lucky I'll be able to get up this weeks comic reviews. But I promise nothing.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Vehicular Homicide
What a weekend.
After a quick round of early morning golf with the boys on Saturday, in temperatures approaching records not even seen on the planet Mercury, I raced home to pick up S so we could knock off a couple wedding related errands, such as getting our international driver’s licenses and meeting with the DJ to iron out our all important ‘Do Not Play’ list.
(Macarena, YMCA, the chicken dance and the entire works of John Denver)
We weren’t in the car five minutes when the radio starts to cut out on us and S notices that the power windows were really sluggish. At this point a strange tone starts to creep into her voice and she starts giving me ‘the look’.
We bought a new used car about 9 months ago. It wasn’t even five years old at the time, didn’t have a ridiculous amount of mileage on it and was thoroughly vetted by S’s Cuz, who just happens to be a mechanic. Despite all of these elements working in the car’s favour, S has a nasty habit of hearing phantom noises and thinking that the car is on the verge of some sort of massive mechanical failure. An idea that I’ve done my level best to assure her could never happen.
Except now it’s actually happening and all bets are off.
“What did you do the car?” says S, instantly discarding my weak and feeble protestations of “nothing”.
“You were the last person to drive it,” she reminds me. “You must have noticed something.”
At this point in time the radio dies on us completely and on the advice of her cousin, hastily reached via his cell, we decide to get off the road and take ourselves to the nearest Crappy Tire before the car calls it a day. Cuz tells us the alternator is most likely shot, but the upside is it’s an easy fix and most likely we can be back on the road the same day.
The Canadian Tire mechanic is thoroughly unimpressed with the fact that Cuz is quarterbacking us through the entire process. As some mechanics are wont to do they try to hit us up for unnecessary parts and excessive labour costs and seem a little peeved that we have a better-than-average understanding of what is going on.
Rule number one. You don’t screw with S. She deals with blood and death and hysterics for a living so it takes a lot to throw her off her game. Trying to bulldoze her into thinking a one hour job takes twice as long as Cuz says it will is only going to guarantee your very public and very humiliating verbal disembowelment.
My job in this little comedy of errors is to preach moderation and to remind S that if we dig our heels in too much, we may get the alternator fixed but they might also take three weeks to do it and when they finally do give the car back to us we’ll end up dead in a ditch somewhere because they’ve cut our brake lines.
Yes I know its inherently wrong to suggest rolling over like this. But we’ve got less than a month before we get married and in that time we need to be mobile. So we can’t afford to be without wheels for an hour, much less a couple days. If we had an infinite amount of time and money I’d be standing right next to S, handing her the sharpened knife as she slowly filets the mechanic for his condescending attitude. But we don’t. So I try to be a moderating influence, settle for only being screwed a little bit (just the tip) and ensure that no one leaves this little transaction happy.
In the end, we missed our appointment with the DJ, somehow managed to get our international driver’s license, depleted our wedding fund to pay for the repairs and then collapsed at home on the couch in an impromptu nap session, thoroughly exhausted by the trials of the day.
And all this before bachelorette party began.
More on that later.
After a quick round of early morning golf with the boys on Saturday, in temperatures approaching records not even seen on the planet Mercury, I raced home to pick up S so we could knock off a couple wedding related errands, such as getting our international driver’s licenses and meeting with the DJ to iron out our all important ‘Do Not Play’ list.
(Macarena, YMCA, the chicken dance and the entire works of John Denver)
We weren’t in the car five minutes when the radio starts to cut out on us and S notices that the power windows were really sluggish. At this point a strange tone starts to creep into her voice and she starts giving me ‘the look’.
We bought a new used car about 9 months ago. It wasn’t even five years old at the time, didn’t have a ridiculous amount of mileage on it and was thoroughly vetted by S’s Cuz, who just happens to be a mechanic. Despite all of these elements working in the car’s favour, S has a nasty habit of hearing phantom noises and thinking that the car is on the verge of some sort of massive mechanical failure. An idea that I’ve done my level best to assure her could never happen.
Except now it’s actually happening and all bets are off.
“What did you do the car?” says S, instantly discarding my weak and feeble protestations of “nothing”.
“You were the last person to drive it,” she reminds me. “You must have noticed something.”
At this point in time the radio dies on us completely and on the advice of her cousin, hastily reached via his cell, we decide to get off the road and take ourselves to the nearest Crappy Tire before the car calls it a day. Cuz tells us the alternator is most likely shot, but the upside is it’s an easy fix and most likely we can be back on the road the same day.
The Canadian Tire mechanic is thoroughly unimpressed with the fact that Cuz is quarterbacking us through the entire process. As some mechanics are wont to do they try to hit us up for unnecessary parts and excessive labour costs and seem a little peeved that we have a better-than-average understanding of what is going on.
Rule number one. You don’t screw with S. She deals with blood and death and hysterics for a living so it takes a lot to throw her off her game. Trying to bulldoze her into thinking a one hour job takes twice as long as Cuz says it will is only going to guarantee your very public and very humiliating verbal disembowelment.
My job in this little comedy of errors is to preach moderation and to remind S that if we dig our heels in too much, we may get the alternator fixed but they might also take three weeks to do it and when they finally do give the car back to us we’ll end up dead in a ditch somewhere because they’ve cut our brake lines.
Yes I know its inherently wrong to suggest rolling over like this. But we’ve got less than a month before we get married and in that time we need to be mobile. So we can’t afford to be without wheels for an hour, much less a couple days. If we had an infinite amount of time and money I’d be standing right next to S, handing her the sharpened knife as she slowly filets the mechanic for his condescending attitude. But we don’t. So I try to be a moderating influence, settle for only being screwed a little bit (just the tip) and ensure that no one leaves this little transaction happy.
In the end, we missed our appointment with the DJ, somehow managed to get our international driver’s license, depleted our wedding fund to pay for the repairs and then collapsed at home on the couch in an impromptu nap session, thoroughly exhausted by the trials of the day.
And all this before bachelorette party began.
More on that later.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Bachelorette Par-tay
S’s bachelorette party is tomorrow night.
I’m really curious to find out what kind of trouble she’s going to get up to. When we first started going out S used to regale me with all these stories about how her work friends were the ultimate party animals. These booze soaked adventures were always outlandish, over the top and spoken of in the deepest reverential tones.
Yet whenever I met members of this group (weddings, Christmas parties…weddings) it was apparent by the number of swollen bellies in the crowd that their heavy partying days were in the past. So instead of Courtney Love, I got to meet Martha Stewart, only minus the jail time.
But tomorrow, in a much requested revival tour, the husbands will be left at home with the children and the women will finally paint the town red again.
S has been handed a list of various tawdry items that she will be expected to bring to her party leaving only the sickest and most depraved imaginations, such as my own, to concoct a convoluted game plan that justifies their usage.
(A health card, really?)
Just like the Polka-roo the myth of the RT party animal will be just that, something often heard about, but rarely seen.
I’m really curious to find out what kind of trouble she’s going to get up to. When we first started going out S used to regale me with all these stories about how her work friends were the ultimate party animals. These booze soaked adventures were always outlandish, over the top and spoken of in the deepest reverential tones.
Yet whenever I met members of this group (weddings, Christmas parties…weddings) it was apparent by the number of swollen bellies in the crowd that their heavy partying days were in the past. So instead of Courtney Love, I got to meet Martha Stewart, only minus the jail time.
But tomorrow, in a much requested revival tour, the husbands will be left at home with the children and the women will finally paint the town red again.
S has been handed a list of various tawdry items that she will be expected to bring to her party leaving only the sickest and most depraved imaginations, such as my own, to concoct a convoluted game plan that justifies their usage.
(A health card, really?)
Just like the Polka-roo the myth of the RT party animal will be just that, something often heard about, but rarely seen.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Post Script
While I'm on the subject...
It's refreshing to know that some people you may not have heard from in years, will still drop everything and come running when they hear you're getting married.
That's friendship.
It's refreshing to know that some people you may not have heard from in years, will still drop everything and come running when they hear you're getting married.
That's friendship.
These aren't a few of my favourite things
It’s getting close to the big day and the topic that most people seem to be wondering about is if I’m nervous or stressed yet.
Um. With a couple exceptions the answer is no.
Marriage itself? Well I wouldn’t have asked in the first place if I didn’t want it.
Planning the wedding? I’ve organized enough film shoots, stage plays, and last years award show for work, to be comfortable enough with the logistics of planning this kind of thing. It’s never fun but I don’t find it particularly stressful either. The basics are pretty much the same.
Full disclosure: S is the lead planner for this event. I’m pot scrubber and chief bottle washer, throwing out opinions left, right and center, but essentially (unsuccessfully) trying to keep myself from getting in the way of her planning.
We’ve also been fairly lucky that our family and friends have been there to lend a hand when they can and so far nobody has made any outrageous requests of us.
No, the most stressful part of the wedding planning has been some guests.
Early on we adopted a no-children policy for the reception. Kids are absolutely welcome to attend the ceremony but we wanted to give people a more adult wedding reception. S and I have both been to weddings where parents spent the majority of their time chasing after screaming children and then have to leave early to get the kiddies to bed. We wanted to avoid that aspect of it all.
With a couple rare exceptions most people seem to be support this choice. Unfortunately the exceptions have been notable in their declaration of abstentia, making us fully aware that it is our policy that is keeping them away. This can be a bit tough to take. Of course we’d like to have them attend. And we absolutely understand their reasons for not being able to come.
It’s the ripple effects that bother me. Couple A chooses not to attend, so they put pressure on Couple B to pass up on the reception as well, in a show of support. They’re trying to make us feel crappy about our decision. The people close to you always know which buttons to push to get a reaction.
There are other political games that we have to play. The seating chart was one of them, dealing with personality conflicts between groups of friends another. Hey, just because they’re your friend, doesn’t mean they have to like, tolerate or make nice with each other.
It’d be nice to think that the world would shelve their personal problems for a day in order to celebrate our wedding. But unfortunately it doesn’t really work like that. It’s the rare human being who is able to rise above it all when the circumstances aren’t to their liking.
Um. With a couple exceptions the answer is no.
Marriage itself? Well I wouldn’t have asked in the first place if I didn’t want it.
Planning the wedding? I’ve organized enough film shoots, stage plays, and last years award show for work, to be comfortable enough with the logistics of planning this kind of thing. It’s never fun but I don’t find it particularly stressful either. The basics are pretty much the same.
Full disclosure: S is the lead planner for this event. I’m pot scrubber and chief bottle washer, throwing out opinions left, right and center, but essentially (unsuccessfully) trying to keep myself from getting in the way of her planning.
We’ve also been fairly lucky that our family and friends have been there to lend a hand when they can and so far nobody has made any outrageous requests of us.
No, the most stressful part of the wedding planning has been some guests.
Early on we adopted a no-children policy for the reception. Kids are absolutely welcome to attend the ceremony but we wanted to give people a more adult wedding reception. S and I have both been to weddings where parents spent the majority of their time chasing after screaming children and then have to leave early to get the kiddies to bed. We wanted to avoid that aspect of it all.
With a couple rare exceptions most people seem to be support this choice. Unfortunately the exceptions have been notable in their declaration of abstentia, making us fully aware that it is our policy that is keeping them away. This can be a bit tough to take. Of course we’d like to have them attend. And we absolutely understand their reasons for not being able to come.
It’s the ripple effects that bother me. Couple A chooses not to attend, so they put pressure on Couple B to pass up on the reception as well, in a show of support. They’re trying to make us feel crappy about our decision. The people close to you always know which buttons to push to get a reaction.
There are other political games that we have to play. The seating chart was one of them, dealing with personality conflicts between groups of friends another. Hey, just because they’re your friend, doesn’t mean they have to like, tolerate or make nice with each other.
It’d be nice to think that the world would shelve their personal problems for a day in order to celebrate our wedding. But unfortunately it doesn’t really work like that. It’s the rare human being who is able to rise above it all when the circumstances aren’t to their liking.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Dry run
S and I went to a friend's wedding this weekend.
While I was there, slowly depleteting the bar of its ample stock of rye, it really hit home that in less than a month I'll be doing all of this again, only from a slightly different viewpoint.
After spending about five minutes sitting in the church this weekend I had completely sweated through my shirt. I looked, and smelt, like I'd spent the afternoon sumo wrestling on the front porch. And this was just me wearing a regular shirt and jacket. For my own wedding the male portion of the bridal party will be wrapped in four layers of thick wool.
You remember wool don't you? Nature's suffocating, heat absorbing, creation.
I'm envisioning at least one fainting and a fatality.
Note to groomsmen. I'm...sorry?
Anyway it was a very nice wedding. I got to play pool, drink and 'dance' for free. What more could you ask for?
But after watching the groom's father deliver his speech, it made me realize that I'm going to have a quick heart to heart with my own dad. I don't think I want to be reffered to as 'sensitive' in front of all the assembled family and friends, no matter how true it may be.
While I was there, slowly depleteting the bar of its ample stock of rye, it really hit home that in less than a month I'll be doing all of this again, only from a slightly different viewpoint.
After spending about five minutes sitting in the church this weekend I had completely sweated through my shirt. I looked, and smelt, like I'd spent the afternoon sumo wrestling on the front porch. And this was just me wearing a regular shirt and jacket. For my own wedding the male portion of the bridal party will be wrapped in four layers of thick wool.
You remember wool don't you? Nature's suffocating, heat absorbing, creation.
I'm envisioning at least one fainting and a fatality.
Note to groomsmen. I'm...sorry?
Anyway it was a very nice wedding. I got to play pool, drink and 'dance' for free. What more could you ask for?
But after watching the groom's father deliver his speech, it made me realize that I'm going to have a quick heart to heart with my own dad. I don't think I want to be reffered to as 'sensitive' in front of all the assembled family and friends, no matter how true it may be.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Gold Diggers of 2008
Powering down the home stretch for the wedding.
Although the ‘To Do’ list hardly seems to be shrinking, indeed the opposite appears to be happening, we are making noticeable progress in getting ready for the big day.
A while ago I noticed a key flaw in my budgeting. I budgeted X amount of dollars for the wedding, but neglected to mention that this amount was also supposed to cover any honeymoon expenses.
Unfortunately, only the wedding budget was crafted around figure X and it when it came time to start planning (and paying) for the honeymoon it became apparent that there was a hole in our finances. Well, my finances anyway.
So things got stretched a little bit and the important stuff (transportation, lodgings) were able to be covered. But food, walking around cash and fantastic miscellaneous are regrettably still beyond my means.
That means these items may have to be taken care of by Senor Credit Cardo.
Which I hate. If there is one occasion when you can justify a smallish amount of debt it should be your honeymoon. But I’m so debt-phobic that I’m likely to bend over backwards and spend as little as I can in order to keep any potential debt accumulation to as small amount as possible.
I don’t want to go hog wild on my honeymoon and break the bank. Hell, I don’t want even want to dent it. But I do know that if I’m paying for things on credit I will begrudge each and every penny spent. And the last thing I want to do on my honeymoon is pinch pennies.
Although the ‘To Do’ list hardly seems to be shrinking, indeed the opposite appears to be happening, we are making noticeable progress in getting ready for the big day.
A while ago I noticed a key flaw in my budgeting. I budgeted X amount of dollars for the wedding, but neglected to mention that this amount was also supposed to cover any honeymoon expenses.
Unfortunately, only the wedding budget was crafted around figure X and it when it came time to start planning (and paying) for the honeymoon it became apparent that there was a hole in our finances. Well, my finances anyway.
So things got stretched a little bit and the important stuff (transportation, lodgings) were able to be covered. But food, walking around cash and fantastic miscellaneous are regrettably still beyond my means.
That means these items may have to be taken care of by Senor Credit Cardo.
Which I hate. If there is one occasion when you can justify a smallish amount of debt it should be your honeymoon. But I’m so debt-phobic that I’m likely to bend over backwards and spend as little as I can in order to keep any potential debt accumulation to as small amount as possible.
I don’t want to go hog wild on my honeymoon and break the bank. Hell, I don’t want even want to dent it. But I do know that if I’m paying for things on credit I will begrudge each and every penny spent. And the last thing I want to do on my honeymoon is pinch pennies.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Engagement Photos
Finally got our engagement photos in.
Here's the front runner.
Here's the front runner.
I'm biologically incapable of smiling naturally for the camera. Hence the smoldering look.
Believe it or not I'm trying like hell to smile here.
Monday, June 23, 2008
You wouldn't like me when I'm angry...
We had a wedding shower on Saturday, which wasn’t exactly glitch free. In fact it was the exact opposite of glitch free. It wasn’t the number of glitches that was the problem, (one), it was the severity of said glitch.
Our condo corporation double booked the ‘party’ room we were holding the shower in.
Actually, it’s a little more complicated than that. S booked the room about three months ago. We were under the impression, the absolutely correct impression, that we only had to pay for the room on the day of the event. So our name was put on the calendar as having booked the room and, having read the flippin condo regulations about reserving the room, we assumed that was all there was to it. At least until the day of the shower.
Then apparently a couple of days before the shower, someone else showed up, cheque in hand, and wanted the room. So the super did a little quick math, cheque today versus cheque three days from now, and made a choice. Rather than drop us a quick call or email and let us know another party was trying to book the room the super took our name off the calendar, replaced it with the new guys name and presumably cashed their cheque.
Big mistake.
What I love about S is that she is kind and selfless, almost to a fault. When we visit friends with kids she’ll always bring a toy or a colouring book for their children. She’ll bend over backwards to accommodate someone at work if they’re looking for a shift change. She’ll work a 12 hour shift at the hospital and then stop off at the comic store for me if I can’t make it that day. She’s always offering to make some snack for every social get together we attend.
But you never, EVER, screw her over. Or you’ll regret it.
My baby don’t take no crap.
Needless to say the super got a new a-hole ripped into them.
In a last minute flurry of activity we transformed our tiny townhouse into shower central. Some shower guests were able to bring us chairs and with a little creative organization we were able to fit everyone in, reasonably comfortably. And by the end of the day the morning’s crisis was transformed into ‘that thing we can laugh about now.’
But it didn’t end there. Our next door neighbour happens the condo corp president. By chance S caught him on his patio yesterday and explained what had happened. Apparently our super’s contract isn’t being renewed in the fall exactly because of things like this. We aren’t the only people to have been screwed over by the super’s dropped balls.
So while everything worked out all right in the end, it made for a couple of tense hours on Saturday morning.
On the plus side our fridge is full of left over food, including an entire cake, and I got to see the Incredible Hulk (review forthcoming) while the shower was taking place. Not a bad Saturday when you get down to it.
Faulk off.
Our condo corporation double booked the ‘party’ room we were holding the shower in.
Actually, it’s a little more complicated than that. S booked the room about three months ago. We were under the impression, the absolutely correct impression, that we only had to pay for the room on the day of the event. So our name was put on the calendar as having booked the room and, having read the flippin condo regulations about reserving the room, we assumed that was all there was to it. At least until the day of the shower.
Then apparently a couple of days before the shower, someone else showed up, cheque in hand, and wanted the room. So the super did a little quick math, cheque today versus cheque three days from now, and made a choice. Rather than drop us a quick call or email and let us know another party was trying to book the room the super took our name off the calendar, replaced it with the new guys name and presumably cashed their cheque.
Big mistake.
What I love about S is that she is kind and selfless, almost to a fault. When we visit friends with kids she’ll always bring a toy or a colouring book for their children. She’ll bend over backwards to accommodate someone at work if they’re looking for a shift change. She’ll work a 12 hour shift at the hospital and then stop off at the comic store for me if I can’t make it that day. She’s always offering to make some snack for every social get together we attend.
But you never, EVER, screw her over. Or you’ll regret it.
My baby don’t take no crap.
Needless to say the super got a new a-hole ripped into them.
In a last minute flurry of activity we transformed our tiny townhouse into shower central. Some shower guests were able to bring us chairs and with a little creative organization we were able to fit everyone in, reasonably comfortably. And by the end of the day the morning’s crisis was transformed into ‘that thing we can laugh about now.’
But it didn’t end there. Our next door neighbour happens the condo corp president. By chance S caught him on his patio yesterday and explained what had happened. Apparently our super’s contract isn’t being renewed in the fall exactly because of things like this. We aren’t the only people to have been screwed over by the super’s dropped balls.
So while everything worked out all right in the end, it made for a couple of tense hours on Saturday morning.
On the plus side our fridge is full of left over food, including an entire cake, and I got to see the Incredible Hulk (review forthcoming) while the shower was taking place. Not a bad Saturday when you get down to it.
Faulk off.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Next up, Baby Faulk
Congratualations to baby sis.
On Tuesday her boyfriend (now fiance) M got down on one knee and popped the question. Now it looks like next summer there'll be another wedding in the family. At least this time I'll have the luxury of not having to work nearly as hard on it.
(Those making the observation that I'm not working very hard now are asked to please leave the room)
Even though my own upcoming nuptuals aren't far in the offing it gobsmacks me that baby sis can be this close to tying the knot. The last thing my mother used to say to me when I went out the front door to school was "make sure you look after your sisters." Even though neither sister has needed me to look out for them in quite some time I'm still enormously protective of them both.
Congrats again baby sis, and just remember, whatever happens to me on my wedding by your hand will surely be revisited to you, ten-fold.
Some things, never change.
On Tuesday her boyfriend (now fiance) M got down on one knee and popped the question. Now it looks like next summer there'll be another wedding in the family. At least this time I'll have the luxury of not having to work nearly as hard on it.
(Those making the observation that I'm not working very hard now are asked to please leave the room)
Even though my own upcoming nuptuals aren't far in the offing it gobsmacks me that baby sis can be this close to tying the knot. The last thing my mother used to say to me when I went out the front door to school was "make sure you look after your sisters." Even though neither sister has needed me to look out for them in quite some time I'm still enormously protective of them both.
Congrats again baby sis, and just remember, whatever happens to me on my wedding by your hand will surely be revisited to you, ten-fold.
Some things, never change.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Truffle - shuffle. Or; how I learned to love the organized chaos that is wedding planning.
So,
We may be down a groomsman. Our current g-man is wheeling and dealing a big business arrangement half a world away. He’s already blown a couple dates for coming back to Canada as this deal picks up more and more speed. Unfortunately this groomsman was also responsible for planning my bachelor party since my best man is currently residing in Ottawa. So right now I’m just waiting to connect with him to confirm it officially before I start seeing about moving other players around.
We’re thinking about promoting the Master of Ceremonies, who was already the de facto fifth groomsman. Now this means that we either ask him to do double duty or we can look for another MC. My vote is for the latter. I’m sure it’s not that difficult to take on both jobs, but I’d rather split up the responsibilities to lessen the chance that there will be a significant oversight on the day. The problem we ran into the first time we tried this is that any potential MC, who we’re BOTH close to, is already a part of the wedding party.
Choices, choices.
Is it wrong that my chief concern is that I don’t know who’s going to plan my bach party?
It is, isn’t it?
Worst. Fiancé. Ever.
We may be down a groomsman. Our current g-man is wheeling and dealing a big business arrangement half a world away. He’s already blown a couple dates for coming back to Canada as this deal picks up more and more speed. Unfortunately this groomsman was also responsible for planning my bachelor party since my best man is currently residing in Ottawa. So right now I’m just waiting to connect with him to confirm it officially before I start seeing about moving other players around.
We’re thinking about promoting the Master of Ceremonies, who was already the de facto fifth groomsman. Now this means that we either ask him to do double duty or we can look for another MC. My vote is for the latter. I’m sure it’s not that difficult to take on both jobs, but I’d rather split up the responsibilities to lessen the chance that there will be a significant oversight on the day. The problem we ran into the first time we tried this is that any potential MC, who we’re BOTH close to, is already a part of the wedding party.
Choices, choices.
Is it wrong that my chief concern is that I don’t know who’s going to plan my bach party?
It is, isn’t it?
Worst. Fiancé. Ever.
Friday, May 16, 2008
More time than I know what to do with.
Invites for wedding were finished on Sunday, mailed Monday and the replies started coming back to us yesterday.
Oh it’s on like the wrath of Kahn!
Just because we didn’t have enough on our plates already, the return of the wedding invitations marks another milestone in the planning of this little shin-diggity. Before we were planning for a wedding that we could reasonably be sure was going to be attended by people we knew. Now, with each little return card that shows up in our mailbox that’s one more person to have to look out for.
(Isn’t so-and-so deathly allergic to water? You can’t sit Uncle Jimmy next to Cousin Ted, don’t you remember what happened the last time? Keep Samantha away from the punch, I’m pretty sure she’ll try to spike it. Your ex-boyfriend is sitting WHERE?)
A short list of things yet to be done.
Suit rentals.
Ring buying.
Cake design confirmation.
Gifts for the bridal party to be purchased.
Meet with DJ.
Meet with florist (again)
Buy centerpieces wholesale.
Decide conclusively on which centerpiece to buy (wholesale)
Seating chart.
Bachelor and bachelorette parties.
Wedding shower.
Engagement photo.
Hook drain directly to bank account.
In other news, the new team jerseys arrived today, a day late for last night’s game. The blue is darker than I hoped for. The logo seems too small and the sizes are always a little hinky.
But now we can go out there and lose as a team. Like we did last night. But goddammit, at least next week we’ll all look the same when losing.
Oh it’s on like the wrath of Kahn!
Just because we didn’t have enough on our plates already, the return of the wedding invitations marks another milestone in the planning of this little shin-diggity. Before we were planning for a wedding that we could reasonably be sure was going to be attended by people we knew. Now, with each little return card that shows up in our mailbox that’s one more person to have to look out for.
(Isn’t so-and-so deathly allergic to water? You can’t sit Uncle Jimmy next to Cousin Ted, don’t you remember what happened the last time? Keep Samantha away from the punch, I’m pretty sure she’ll try to spike it. Your ex-boyfriend is sitting WHERE?)
A short list of things yet to be done.
Suit rentals.
Ring buying.
Cake design confirmation.
Gifts for the bridal party to be purchased.
Meet with DJ.
Meet with florist (again)
Buy centerpieces wholesale.
Decide conclusively on which centerpiece to buy (wholesale)
Seating chart.
Bachelor and bachelorette parties.
Wedding shower.
Engagement photo.
Hook drain directly to bank account.
In other news, the new team jerseys arrived today, a day late for last night’s game. The blue is darker than I hoped for. The logo seems too small and the sizes are always a little hinky.
But now we can go out there and lose as a team. Like we did last night. But goddammit, at least next week we’ll all look the same when losing.
Monday, May 12, 2008
The Revolution will be catered
So,
I was the big loser in poker this weekend. Down 80 bucks, plus the 60 or so I shelled out on beer and food.
Frig, losing is bad enough, but when you have pay for everyone else it can be a little tough to take. It’s nights like Saturday that keep me from playing poker more than once a month, I simply can’t afford to have a string of losing nights.
Anyway, Sunday I put the finishing touches on the wedding invites while S was in Danger Bay at a wedding shower and they’re going to get dropped into the mail this afternoon.
We’ve officially less than three months away from the big day and even though we’ve got all the heavy lifting taken care of (DJ, cake, venue, minister, photographer, flowers) there are still a myriad of smaller details to be taken care of.
(I developed a nasty facial tic when I looked at my To Do list and started to add up some of the uncompleted tasks.)
Anyway I got a call from the best man on Sunday wondering what the story is so I think it’s time to flesh out one last critical path and make sure all the disparate parts of this wedding are on the same page.
My short list has tux fitting and getting gifts for the wedding party on it, as well as picking up a little something for S that I’m kicking around in the back of my head. I’m also mulling over the idea of a video confessional booth where guests can leave a message to the bride and groom, but I don’t have the foggiest idea where I’m going to get a vid cam, beyond renting one, that has what I’m looking for.
Back to the salt mines.
Faulk off.
I was the big loser in poker this weekend. Down 80 bucks, plus the 60 or so I shelled out on beer and food.
Frig, losing is bad enough, but when you have pay for everyone else it can be a little tough to take. It’s nights like Saturday that keep me from playing poker more than once a month, I simply can’t afford to have a string of losing nights.
Anyway, Sunday I put the finishing touches on the wedding invites while S was in Danger Bay at a wedding shower and they’re going to get dropped into the mail this afternoon.
We’ve officially less than three months away from the big day and even though we’ve got all the heavy lifting taken care of (DJ, cake, venue, minister, photographer, flowers) there are still a myriad of smaller details to be taken care of.
(I developed a nasty facial tic when I looked at my To Do list and started to add up some of the uncompleted tasks.)
Anyway I got a call from the best man on Sunday wondering what the story is so I think it’s time to flesh out one last critical path and make sure all the disparate parts of this wedding are on the same page.
My short list has tux fitting and getting gifts for the wedding party on it, as well as picking up a little something for S that I’m kicking around in the back of my head. I’m also mulling over the idea of a video confessional booth where guests can leave a message to the bride and groom, but I don’t have the foggiest idea where I’m going to get a vid cam, beyond renting one, that has what I’m looking for.
Back to the salt mines.
Faulk off.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Cover Shoot
So,
I oversaw the cover shoot for our next issue of the Mag. Oversaw might be stretching it a bit. The photog was all over everything and there really wasn’t much for me to do except make encouraging sounds in the back of my throat every now and again.
Normally our cover shoots are no more than an hour and consist of our usual photog trying to find interesting things for our cover model to do in his studio space.
But this time we decided to kick it up a notch. We had a makeup artist, a wardrobe stylist (who mistook me for one of the photog’s assistants) and a jewelry designer who all graciously devoted their time and skills to the shoot.
The problem is we couldn’t possibility afford to pay the real costs for a day like yesterday. Almost everything we got for the day was because the photog was owed a favour. But the quality of the pictures we got was so far above our normal fare that I suspect a serious protracted discussion is going to be held about the nature of our cover photography. And rightly so. I suspect we’ll end up somewhere in the middle, between our usual game plan and this bright and shiny new plan.
The photographer was great, our profile was magnificent and the pictures were the best I’ve ever seen for the mag. It was a long day, but totally worth it.
And about 30 seconds after the last frame was snapped I had to run to my wedding tasting. So I missed out on NCD.
Temporarily.
I oversaw the cover shoot for our next issue of the Mag. Oversaw might be stretching it a bit. The photog was all over everything and there really wasn’t much for me to do except make encouraging sounds in the back of my throat every now and again.
Normally our cover shoots are no more than an hour and consist of our usual photog trying to find interesting things for our cover model to do in his studio space.
But this time we decided to kick it up a notch. We had a makeup artist, a wardrobe stylist (who mistook me for one of the photog’s assistants) and a jewelry designer who all graciously devoted their time and skills to the shoot.
The problem is we couldn’t possibility afford to pay the real costs for a day like yesterday. Almost everything we got for the day was because the photog was owed a favour. But the quality of the pictures we got was so far above our normal fare that I suspect a serious protracted discussion is going to be held about the nature of our cover photography. And rightly so. I suspect we’ll end up somewhere in the middle, between our usual game plan and this bright and shiny new plan.
The photographer was great, our profile was magnificent and the pictures were the best I’ve ever seen for the mag. It was a long day, but totally worth it.
And about 30 seconds after the last frame was snapped I had to run to my wedding tasting. So I missed out on NCD.
Temporarily.
Monday, April 7, 2008
Wild Weddings
So.
We hit up the florist on the weekend. We knocked boutonnières, bouquets and corsages out of the park in no time flat.
We're going with a red and white theme. Original we're not. But as long as the tableclothes don't look like a cheap pizzeria we're good with it.
Unfortunately the one thing we have yet to agree on is centerpieces. I like a simple flower arrangement and S wants lanterns. We couldn't be more diametrically opposed to each others preferences if we tried. But while we were at the florist she showed us some possible floral centerpieces and I saw a couple I really liked.
It's funny, when we were outlining which designs we liked the best, I found they were really indicative of our personalities. I preferred to just let it all hang out. I liked the arrangements natural and unforced, a little messy even. While S preffered a more subdued, artistic take on them. It was eerie just how easy it was to match each arrangement with each person, personality identification through floral arrangement.
We hit up the florist on the weekend. We knocked boutonnières, bouquets and corsages out of the park in no time flat.
We're going with a red and white theme. Original we're not. But as long as the tableclothes don't look like a cheap pizzeria we're good with it.
Unfortunately the one thing we have yet to agree on is centerpieces. I like a simple flower arrangement and S wants lanterns. We couldn't be more diametrically opposed to each others preferences if we tried. But while we were at the florist she showed us some possible floral centerpieces and I saw a couple I really liked.
It's funny, when we were outlining which designs we liked the best, I found they were really indicative of our personalities. I preferred to just let it all hang out. I liked the arrangements natural and unforced, a little messy even. While S preffered a more subdued, artistic take on them. It was eerie just how easy it was to match each arrangement with each person, personality identification through floral arrangement.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Wedding Music
I've moved into a brief work lull , in a lead up to our big awards event at the end of this week. It's been pedal to the metal for the last couple of months. There's more than a couple posts in that, including a couple on "What will be different the next time out".
But what's on my mind right now is my upcoming wedding and some music related issues.
One of the few things that has been, almost completely, left up to me when it comes to planning this wedding is the music.
That includes...
1. Dancing music.
2. Music for the actual ceremony.
3. The first dance.
Right now now it's number three that has me stumped. I have a fiew pre-conditions that must be met for the first dance. It has to be semi-popular (so that if it ever comes on the radio we can have a 'moment'), not overly sappy, acceptable to both parties and not hackney and cliched.
For me the problem is all my sweepstake leaders sound great musically but are hideously innapropriate if you actually listen to their lyrics. For example my two faves are actually about a) a couple breaking up, b) a confused woman who gets into a series of bad relationships.
Not exactly prime wedding material. As pieces of music I find both songs to be powerful, even verging on haunting. But I'd hardly play them at my wedding for the guests to dance to, much less my future wife.
The reason that this all floated to the forefront of my hazy conscious today is that another song has leapt out as a possible contender.
Wheat Kings - The Tragically Hip.
Only to be beat down by actually listening to the lyrics.
The search continues. Stay tuned.
But what's on my mind right now is my upcoming wedding and some music related issues.
One of the few things that has been, almost completely, left up to me when it comes to planning this wedding is the music.
That includes...
1. Dancing music.
2. Music for the actual ceremony.
3. The first dance.
Right now now it's number three that has me stumped. I have a fiew pre-conditions that must be met for the first dance. It has to be semi-popular (so that if it ever comes on the radio we can have a 'moment'), not overly sappy, acceptable to both parties and not hackney and cliched.
For me the problem is all my sweepstake leaders sound great musically but are hideously innapropriate if you actually listen to their lyrics. For example my two faves are actually about a) a couple breaking up, b) a confused woman who gets into a series of bad relationships.
Not exactly prime wedding material. As pieces of music I find both songs to be powerful, even verging on haunting. But I'd hardly play them at my wedding for the guests to dance to, much less my future wife.
The reason that this all floated to the forefront of my hazy conscious today is that another song has leapt out as a possible contender.
Wheat Kings - The Tragically Hip.
Only to be beat down by actually listening to the lyrics.
The search continues. Stay tuned.
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