peonies in a dish

I'm so incorporating this into our centerpieces with my collection of thrifted milk glass bowls. 4 days!

Image from here

aw-shucks

Myra is making my head get all big and bloated and full of hot air. I guess what I'm saying is, I'm completely flattered. And enamored. I have a gazillion more nose picking, pajama tossing, mattress thieving stories to share. After the wedding. And I'm sure I can dig up some fun zombie swag on Etsy to go along with the vampire slaying kit.

I love that you guys love me.

Image by Elizabeth Messina via Myra's flickr.

lust

I have got to try some of these mouth watering caramels from Parisian Pastry Lab, Galipette. Ginger lemongrass? fleur de sel? Good-bye wedding diet.


Found via littlebrownpen.

Ten

From button empire

Etsy break

Knitware Tumblers by Alyssa Ettinger
Happy Hermits' Journal by Apak

Custom Tattered Tee by Bonzie

Pretty in Pink hairpins by yeah hello

Miniature Vampire Killer's Kit by pjjammers

The weight of memory by Peonies & Polaroids


Just a few of my favs.

Stones

Thank you East Side. I knew I could count on you for some solid Groom Style advice. Check out Mick Jagger. Is that not the best 70's look or what? Matching shoes and belt. Simple shirt. No tie. Perfect.



Image from here

18 days and a recap, yo

I've been adding "yo's" to the end of everything I say this past week. I blame it entirely on this.

Potato chip diet, I abhor you. Thankfully ass cellulite doesn't fall into my category of "wedding related things I have the energy to care about right now".

Our play list is finally finished. I had a few glasses of wine the other night and took over where Nick left off. No David Sedaris. Plenty of David Bowie and David Byrne.

The future ceremony location

Hair flower by Twigs & Honey (and a bolero that I can't get enough of!)

Sneak peek at the reception mini
The perfect pair of J Crew heels

A funky 70's suit

A plethora of DIY peonies

Birds from the runny bunny

Napkins, napkins, napkins


The excitement is killing me (exclamation, exclamation, exclamation)

Zen and the Art of Bed Bugs

My restless nights of wedding stress have since melted away, only to be replaced with joyful anticipation. Anticipation to meet Nick's family. To spend time with mine. To stand barefoot on the beach and drink mass quantities of spiked lemonade. Such bliss.

While we are away on our honeymoon some of Nick's family will be keeping our cats company in our cramped apartment. In preparation for their stay I've been running around like a lunatic creating checklists. Put up new shower curtain liners. Scrub the cabinets. Hide the naughties. Wash the linens.

This afternoon as I was downstairs doing laundry I made a remarkable discovery in the hallway. An abandoned mattress. The perfect size for our empty trundle bed. A trundle bed that would make the most magnificent of guest beds for weary relatives. It was fate.

After dragging the mattress up three flights of stairs I finally busted through our front door in a puddle of wheezing sweat. Nick looked up from the computer in horror.

"No. Uh-uh. Not gonna happen. Take that thing back where you found it. It's vile."

I would be lying if I told you this was the first questionable object I dug up in our basement.

"What do you mean vile," I pleaded, conjuring up my best used-car salesman impersonation. "This thing is perfect! A Godsend! A steal!" I was already thinking about how grateful his brother would be when he discovered I just saved him from camping out on our cheap jute rug for a week.

"Well if that thing was abandoned, I'm sure it was for a good reason," he interjected. "And if it wasn't abandoned, then you must have stolen it from somebody moving in. It wasn't in the hallway, was it? Did you just jack that from someone?"

I thought fast. "Umm... no! I didn't steal it. I mean, I don't think I stole it. There was nobody around. It's mine!"

This went on until the used-car salesman morphed into psychotic-territorial-fiance who'll lose a limb before giving up this freebie. Eventually he gave up and slunk back to his computer while I inspected my prize. I put it through what I like to call Amanda's Test of Compatibility:

Visually the mattress looked sound. Check.

Next, I sniffed every square inch of its surface. No offending odors. Check.

Finally, I rubbed my face all over the top before grinning and tucking it away on our trundle frame. If I wake up tomorrow morning with hives, I'll consider it a sign. Only then will I admit defeat and lug my trophy back downstairs to where I found it. If not, I just scored us a pretty sweet guest bed.


I'll keep you posted.





Image by señor x

I know it's cliché, but I do have the best friends ever

For my bachelorette party my friends came together to create the most joyous of Saturday nights. One made bundles of garland and goodie bags (etc.), while another set up a raunchy trip to a local pole dancing studio. After bribes of champagne, chocolate covered strawberries, and foam boobie cups, I made my way to the stripper pole- where I quickly slung my legs around it, grunted, "Uh-oh Gawwwwd!", and tumbled clumsily onto the hardwood floor. My prospects as a future pole dancer: not so bright. Stunt double in the next Jackass movie: call me.
My abs are still killing me from the deceiving workout and I can't bring myself to take the garlands down from my living room ceiling. I'm going to end this blog with a brief word association:

I-5 Rager
Man-sized teddy bear
Heckling fiance
Pole dancing: How to rack your groin with class
Phallic cutouts
Martha Stewart
Champagne hangover

The End.