Fuchsia.

These run wild in Ireland. As soon as I saw them, I couldn't stop looking. Fuchsia. So pretty.

Hills and Heels.

BFF Crystal and I were enjoying a very lovely afternoon at the Seattle Art Museum yesterday. It made me feel a little inadequate, to be honest. While I'm going through the museum trying to appreciate the talents of these artists, I couldn't help but have a mini pity-party. "I want to be able to paint like this" kept going through my head. And it soon became: "I wish I could do anything that would have such a beautiful and meaningful end result. Wow, I don't think I'm good at anything."

I wasn't kidding about the pity-party.

It didn't help that on two different occasions last week, Chad poked fun at my writing skills. He says he was kidding, but I'm no fool.

So I was feeling a bit woe-is-me; but it's what happened after we stepped out of the museum that brought my spirits right back up:

We were crossing the street, and all of a sudden this lady comes up from behind me, looks down at my shoes and very condescendingly says:

"You know Seattle does have hills. You might want to reconsider the heels next time."

"Um...excuse me??" was my only response, because I was so caught of guard.

"I don't know where you're from, but here in Seattle, we have hills, and next time leave the heels at home. You're going to be hating yourself tonight."

And she rushes past us as Crystal and I scream after her:

"I AM from Seattle."

We started laughing uncontrollably and the lady turns around and says:

"Laugh all you want, but when you're 30 and your back is arched and you'll be in a lot of pain, you're gonna wish you listened to me."

Again, in unison we said:

"I AM 30."

"Oh, well you look young." Frustration, heavy in her voice, and it was the last thing we heard as she speed walked away from us in her Ugg's knock off and brightly colored hair.

That made me quickly forget about my inadequacies as an artist or writer, and had us laughing for hours.

I can't move forward with any wedding plans until I know the location of my wedding.

I can't know the location of my wedding until I have a tentative guest count.

I can't get a tentative guest count until Chad's mom gives me one.

I can't get Chad's mom to give me a guest count until Chad pushes her to do so.

I can't get Chad to push her to do so until he wants to.

... means that the reason I can't move forward in any wedding plans is because of Chad.

Spiders

For some random reason one day Chad decided to share with me that in a year the average person swallows about 20 spiders during the night. ? Ok. Thanks for that completely fabricated statistic.

Then tonight right before I turned off the light to go to sleep, I looked at the wall and saw a little baby spider...right at my mouth level.

Great...what if it wasn't fabricated?

A confession.

No matter home many times I have looked this up in the past, it seems to always confuse me. When the hell do I use a semicolon or a colon?? I have tried to throw it into sentences, but truth be told, it's a sham, I don't really know what I'm doing. I close my eyes and hope I'm using it appropriately.

There, I said it.

The nerve!

My mom gave me a tentative guest list for my wedding today. The low number was a bit surprising; 155...not bad at all. I noticed on the bottom of the list she had written "Meenal's friends" and a number next to it. Of the total 155 people that had made up the guest list; family members and friends of my parents, my mother had allotted me FIFTEEN spaces for my friends, for MY WEDDING.

This.

is.

not.

ok.

I knew as I kept stuffing the towels in the washing machine that it was too many. I knew it, but I couldn't stop doing it.

Now I think I broke the washing machine.

I'm going to make a terrible housewife one day.

Dream Dress.

This dress is WAY out of my price range.

Though I don't know the exact price, I know it's $7000-ish.

I saw it and haven't been able to get it out of my mind.

All other dresses I've found are so mundane in comparison.

Maybe?

No, there is absolutely no way I can spend $7000 on a dress I'm gonna wear once.

No.

Loud sounds.

The cacophony of a motorcycle speeding past my window gets me angry. I have no idea why, but the sound is so obnoxious that I get angry at the motorcycle, it's driver, and all the stupid people in the world.

In that order.

A funeral to my dream wedding.

A few months ago my boyfriend asked me to marry him. I have since, cluttered my coffee table with many, many wedding magazines. We decided to keep the engagement to ourselves for a few weeks; just relish in the good news before our families tainted it with their ideas and views. In those weeks, we were able to, surprisingly, figure out where we wanted to get married, our colors, and our wedding party. We even went to the location we chose and fell in love.

...and then we told our parents. After sitting down with them one afternoon we realized that the dream wedding we planned, with about 150 guests, was just that-a dream. Our parents have promised to keep the guest list down to 500 people. Large weddings loose so much of the detailed planning I was hoping for. How do you pick favors for a crowd that big? Since it's the only "real" wedding in either of our families, they have big plans in mind. They ARE paying for it. I decided to let them have their 500 guests, but it is so hard to find a decent venue for a crowd that size! I guess this is just the beginning of the year ahead of me.

...but tonight I want to raise my glass to our ideal wedding; may it rest in peace.