The crackberry is back, baby!

Donald bought me a beautiful Blackberry as a gift on our 7 year anniversary, which was this past August 17th. I immediately became as addicted to my Blackberry as much as I am to Facebook or TheKnot message boards.

Addicted, I tell you. Yes, I am brave enough and honest enough with myself to recognize a problem - no denial here, ladies and gentlemen.

I was writing text messages that took people 3 of their own messages to receive. I was writing notes, tasks, even using the datebook. Yes, it was my Crackberry - and I was in love (don't worry people, the wedding is still on).

And then my world came crashing down when on Wednesday evening at approximately 10:36 pm as I was exiting the shower and walking into the room...I yelped. Who am I kidding? I shrieked! Because there lay my Crackberry, covered in Homer slobber and drool, tossed aside on the floor - CRACKED down the middle! I gasped. I choked. I almost choked Homer. There he was, chewing on the leather holster, after not-so-carefully removing my phone from it.

He ATE my Crackberry! It was barely a month old. And it died. And I've been without one for 5 days. That's 5 days in which I barely texted anyone. And I didn't blog about it, because it made me sad.

And then today - as I got home and checked the mail - Donald is there holding my shiny, new, red Crackberry in the palm of his hands. That's true love (Donald, that is, lol).

Lesson learned? Yes. And now for my Mastercard inspired anecdote:

Broken Crackberry: $0

New Crackberry: $100 (Donald fixed this, not moi, so I don't know, nor do I care, about how he got it to $100)

Extra chew toy: $4

Knowing Homer Love is unconditional and no matter what he does, we still love him: Priceless

R.I.P. old Crackberry:

Therapeutic Ramblings

I love planning my wedding. I mean I l-o-v-e it. Big, puffy heart with shiny spot love it.





But holy cannoli - I am one tired bride-to-be. And I'm not even making that much of a fuss over most things. We picked our cake vendor with one tasting. We chose our dinner entree 3 seconds after the tasting.





But I feel that I'm falling behind on some things. Like a card box - what am I going to use? Will it be a birdcage, box, trunk, green, ivory, DIY, store-bought? And what about the Bridesmaid's jewelry? Will I buy pearls, crystals, from etsy's, from the mall, all the same, or a necklace and a bracelet? I get so stressed at work that I've banned myself from knotting - I know, blasphemous - and have resorted to coloring books and puzzles to get through my day.





And taking all these rapidly running thoughts into consideration - I had the most wonderful and deliciously marvelous idea (and yes, Donald thought it was all that and icing, too)...





...a Day 0f Coordinator! ::i squeal in delight::





Yes, that's right, she's not a wedding planner, but she's a DOC - someone who will tell me what to do! And not just a book or a stupid list on a wedding website - a real, live girl who will be there telling me what I need to get done, how to possibly do it, and when to have it done by. I big puffy heart my wedding - but I really big puffy heart my day of coordinator.





We booked her Tuesday - and voila - she has us scheduled for a walk-through of the Rusty Pelican on this Thursday. I cannot say it enough (and I actually didn't believe all the brides before me who said this before I hired my own DOC) - if you can fit one in your budget, get one!





It's like having my own organized, calm, collected cheerleader!





I feel like sanity has been regained and I can now wait until my real honeymoon and stop begging for a fake one before. Yay!








Oh, and we also put up a new light fixture in the dining room - it's a pretty little pendant - $15 at Home Depot and Donald put it up himself. So proud.

(By the way, Donald would be so happy I mentioned this: That clock in the background was a gift my mom and dad got once, and it's actually a Coca-Cola clock - the boy's favorite liquid in the whole world!)

He also redid all the outlets in the house to make sure they are up to par for when our inspector comes to OK us for the insurance. And he only shocked himself once! We also cleared some overgrown shrubs and mowed the lawn. We can now see Homer's lower half again. For now.

And he said, "You're cooking?!"

OK. I admit it. I'm no Suzy-(however her name is spelled)-homemaker. My mom unsuccessfully tried to have me do things like that as a teenager, but, alas, to no avail.

I can make a killer chicken soup from scratch. And I mean killer. I can make bake marshmallow covered yams like Martha Stewart and Rachael Ray's bastard love child. I can. I promise. I have Thanksgiving pictures to prove it, damn it.

But do I? That's a big N-O. My grandma and her arroz con pollo are turning in her grave as we speak.

But that was until this past week when a couple of coincidental, albeit fortunate (in disguise), events occurred. First - the wedding is catching up with us - and doing take-out is taking us out, financially that is. Second of all, Donald starting to notice where he spends most of his money - very nice, expensive lunches. I'm not talking sit-down restaurants, but places like Quizno's. Yummy? Yes. Expensive? Double yes!! And then a few of the lovely ladies on the knot.com SoFla board (my current prime time addiction, sorry bloggy blog!) decided to start cooking blogs. Praise the kitchen goddesses - my inspiration has returned!

Our kitchen has yet to be remodeled (which is a casual cook's turn-off, IMO) but yet I'm still cooking. I have cooked now for 4 consecutive days (today we made sides and bought a Rotisserie Chicken from Costco - long day of crisis counseling, ugh). I feel like I'm in I-can-cook-but-don't-wanna Rehab...and you know what? I think I'm getting out soon. No, I'm not throwing a tantrum and getting kicked out. I think I might graduate! And I owe it all to almost-empty-pockets and cooking blogs! So thanks to Michelle and Melissa for the lovely blogs. Donald tips his hypothetical hat in your direction, too.

Now, if only there were cleaning blogs. Hm.

On a brighter, less chore-y related note - we schedule our tasting. La, la, la. Free food - the thing Donald is most looking forward to about wedding planning. And we now have cake tastings arranged, too. We're hitting up 3 spots for cakes: Edible Temptations, Ana Paz, and Edda's. (Note to self: bring gallons of bottled water to avoid sugar shock). Yay! We're getting so so so close. Everything major is booked. We even picked out our ceremony songs; which are generously being played by Donald's good (and very talented) friend Marcelo-the-guitar-teacher. Coming in to Snow Patrol's Chasing Cars (the walk to the altar at the Rusty is pretty short) and going out to God Only Knows by the Beach Boys.

Only 130 days. 130 days. A hundred and thirty days. 18 weekends and 18,000 things to do. Okay. I think I'm having mild anxiety. 130 days.