Wedding dress shopping, volume 3

I had SUCH a hard time deciding what to call this post, because my instinct was to call it something along the lines of "I GOT IT," but my OCD tendencies won in the end, so I went with the standard title to make it fit in the series.

But the real point here is: I GOT THE DRESS. It's been ordered. The deposit has been paid. It will arrive this summer.

And it is PERFECT. I realize that perfection can't really be quantified, but seriously, it's even more perfect than I remembered, because this time I had tried on lots of other dresses and I knew, really KNEW, that it would look as good on me as it does on my sister. Better, because the dress completely suits my personality. It's me. It's gorgeous, but I have full and utter confidence that I will be wearing the dress and not the other way around.

The thing about this dress is that I would never, ever have thought that it was the dress I wanted. The only reason I even picked it off the rack was because I liked the neckline and wanted to see what it looked like on. I barely even noticed the rest of the dress. And again last night when we went back and got the dress off the rack, I had a moment of fear because I hardly recognized the dress. And I didn't like it that much on the hanger.

But on a body. Specifically a body shaped like mine and my sister's. It's perfect.

So screw the fact that I didn't want strapless. Or ivory. Or a big train. Or beading. Or anything sparkly. Or anything elaborate. Because it is truly, utterly perfect. And I practically floated all the way home. And my iPod seemed to understand the moment, because it played nothing but happy, floaty love songs the whole Metro ride home.

Because it's part of a limited collection, there are no photos of it on the designer's website, but of course, we took pictures. The sample was too small for me, so my sister modeled it, but I held it up against me and you could see, just from that, how great it would look. Now, Torsten knows not to read posts about wedding dresses, and I know he would never intentionally do so, but just in case he's ever skimming the blog and comes across the pictures inadvertently, I'm not going to put them on here. But I did put them on Flickr. So you can see them there.

Having the dress makes my concept of the wedding so much more REAL. Throughout this process I have made a conscious effort to remind myself that no matter how much time and effort and expense go into the planning of this wedding, and no matter how much I'm looking forward to it, the really important thing is the marriage and the love that we will share for the rest of our lives.

And I still feel that way. But wow, having picked the dress makes me really be able to envision the actual wedding day, and the moment when we see each other for the first time. And picturing that moment makes me smile, really really big.

Foggy

I have been verging on sick since the weekend, but it hasn't yet become totally unbearable. I'm still not sure if it's allergies (early, but things are starting to grow, especially in North Carolina, where I was last weekend) or if I'm actually sick. But I don't feel great. Still, I haven't been sick all winter, so if this is the sickest I'm going to get (and I am knocking on wood about this), I'll take it.

It has been kind of a cloudy week. On Monday afternoon toward the end of the day, Torsten IMed me to ask me if I liked my flowers. Except, ha ha, what flowers? It was like deja vu. It turned out that he had used the refund from the dud Valentine's Day flowers to order a bouquet of purple flowers to be sent to my office on Monday. And not from the company that messed everything up the last time. But they didn't arrive.

The gesture was totally sweet, and I am touched, but it is beyond unbelievable to me that they did not show up. Torsten called at about 4:45 and was told by customer service that there was no problem because the flowers could show up anytime until 5:00 and maybe 5:30. Unsurprisingly, by 5:30 there were still no flowers. So he called back and was told they'd be delivered either in the next five minutes or first thing the next morning.

Shockingly, neither happened, so at noon on Tuesday Torsten called back and had an extensive argument before finally managing to procure a refund. But GEEZ. What kind of bad luck do we have when it comes to flowers? I mean, are we cursed or what? Torsten seems to think so--he has vowed never to send me flowers again, except maybe on our 50th wedding anniversary.

Luckily, I did not have a meltdown on the scale of last time, possibly because just after this all happened I received a request from 1-800-Flowers to tell them about my charming V-Day experience with them. So I got to take out my frustration on their little survey. They're just lucky they didn't try to conduct the survey over the phone.

However, I'm feeling more positive today because I mailed the save-the-dates this morning. There are a few that we haven't sent yet because we are resolving outstanding questions about addresses or significant others' last names, but we should have all that information in the next couple of days and then we can get those last stragglers in the mail. I'm glad we did actual mailers instead of an online thing, though, because now we have our guest list in perfect order with no missing information, so when it comes time to send out the invitations, there will not be a million address-related questions to deal with.

And lastly in wedding news, my sister and I are going back to the bridal salon to look at my front-runner dress tonight. She will have to try it on because the sample they have doesn't fit me. But now that I've tried on so many other dresses, I know what looks good on me--and seeing it on her gives me a pretty good idea of how the dress will look on me anyway. So hopefully tomorrow I'll have a verdict to share between that dress and its backup. Stay tuned.

Blog Share: Ten Things

[Ed. note: Today is the day of the big Blog Share, organized by the fabulous -R-. Which means that the below post was written not by me, but by an anonymous blogger. Conversely, my post for today is floating anonymously in the blogosphere. And no, I'm not going to tell you where to look to find it.

But please, read and comment on the below post just like you always do with posts I've written. I am sure that the author would greatly appreciate it.]

Ten things I am, for whatever reason, too embarrassed or scared to publish on my own blog:

1) I never like to discuss money with other people as I worry that they will undoubtedly have more and will look at me like Jethro's poor second cousin from the Arkansas back woods. This irrational fear has propelled me to work ridiculous hours, multiple jobs, and take high-paying jobs I'm not in love with. I'm not so much afraid of poverty as I am of looking poor.

2) I have had a (singular) hemorrhoid for a year now and am too embarrassed to go to the doctor to get it "looked at". C'mon! You would totally be the same way & you know it.

3) I made out with a former classmate at my last class reunion, just for fun. But now, I have another one coming up and I am embarrassed to go as he wasn't that cute and oh yeah, I'm married. Lots of people know this fun fact (obviously not the husband) but I'm really more embarrassed about WHO it was, not that I did it in the first place.

4) I am not am empathetic person, overall. I try, but I'm missing a gene or something. I guess I am in certain situations, but only like 10% of the time. The other 90% is total fakery on my part.

5) I'm strangely and secretly sexually attracted to: Michael Gandolfini (Tony Soprano), The taller Coen brother, Sir Ben Kingsley, Dita Von Teese, Seth Rogan, Jeff Goldblum, David Letterman, Will Arnett, Catherine Keener and Chris Noth.

6) I currently weigh 25 pounds more than what my "max" weight was for years. I am disgusted by myself but have done very little to take it off. I have had to buy new clothes, something I had previously thought was something only "weak" people had to do. Now, I get it. And it sucks. And as vain and narcissistic as I am, I know I need to take care of this or I will hate myself.

7) I judge people very quickly, and I'm rarely, rarely, rarely wrong about the initial ruling. No lie. I'm VERY good at figuring people out within 2.5 seconds of meeting them. Seriously. I have like a 99% success rate here. I may be judgmental, but I can't help it- it's my gift. I am obligated to go forth and spread the word.

8) I have enough information to ruin someone close to me who has done nothing but cause the people I love misery and pain. I could destroy this person's career, social standing and reputation in one fell swoop. But I won't. I have decided that there is one thing this person could do to unleash my wrath, and as long as they stay in bounds I am sitting on what I know. I am neither mean nor vindictive, and the event that would cause me to do this is so completely heinous that this person will deserve not only what I can dish out, but much worse. I really hope it never gets to that. Really. I don't.

9) I like watching the TMZ.com show on TV. And I read People and Us every chance I get. I am convinced I am getting dumber by the second.

10) I feel so guilty about having more time off than anyone else I know that I will regularly lie about what I did during the day to make it seem like I actually got off of the couch and DID something, when the reality is I will spend many days laying around, watching bad cable and shopping online. Once I told my husband that I spent the whole day weeding the yard and planning a future trip, when In actuality I bought 3 pairs of shoes, a dress and 4 books online. Oh, and I went to lunch with a friend and had 3 glasses of wine and spent 2.5 hours gossiping. And I took a 1/2 hour shower. And I spent two hours blogging.
Sounds productive to me...

I need a puppy NOW.

When we were in North Carolina, we didn't just look at wedding dresses. We also went to visit the puppy that my parents are going to get next month. This is the puppy that you all suggested names for a couple months ago. My mom wound up deciding on another name, but she still appreciated all of your suggestions.


Anyway, the puppies were born four weeks ago and there were five males in the litter. My parents were third on the list for a male, so they can't choose their puppy until the two people ahead of them have chosen theirs. So we don't know which of the five adorable puppies we saw is going to be theirs. But given the incredible, painful cuteness of all five of them, it hardly matters.


Torsten and I are both dying for a dog, and believe me, seeing these puppies did not help us out at all. By the time we left the breeders' house, I was ready to pack up and move out of our apartment that day. Or even not pack and just leave all our crap behind. Just as long as we could move somewhere that allowed dogs.


It's been two days since we saw them and I still haven't recovered. I need to take them all home with me, now. Seriously, every last one of them. All five. And maybe their three sisters too. I don't care if they pee all over the house and bark all night and roll in their own poo. The cuteness is clearly a defense mechanism so you don't kill them after they've destroyed your home. But as a survival technique, it's extremely effective.


While we were there, I was torn between holding puppies and taking pictures of puppies. I wound up doing more of the latter, but only after some serious puppy cuddling sessions. You can see the full set of photos here.

Wedding dress shopping, volume 2

Okay, you all said that you wanted photos from this weekend's wedding dress shopping experience, so I took you at your word. On Saturday, armed with my camera, I headed to North Carolina's bridal superstore with my mother and sister. I had already found a dress that I loved, but it was a bit out of my price range, so the hope was to find a dress that I liked as much at a fraction of the price.

The secondary goal was for me to try on lots of dresses that actually fit me to get a better idea of what suits me and what I like in a wedding gown. And oh my god, it was so amazing to get to try on dresses that actually fit me (some were even too big!) and see what I look like in a wedding gown. The oh-god moment came when I tried on a veil and dress at the same time--it was the first time that I actually felt bridal. It was a little scary. But mostly amazing. See?


The first dress that I tried on made happy because it made my waist look small. The satiny, a-line style definitely suited me. However, it was a bit too centered and princess-y, and I didn't like how round the neckline was.


The next one had this awful, straight neckline that was about two inches too high, and a weird ruffle thing in the skirt that I just did not like. It had this asymmetrical thing going on in the bodice that I liked, but it needed to be a couple inches further to the side--apparently it wasn't asymmetrical enough for the likes of me.


The third one was a halter style, which suits me very well in casual clothing, and it made me feel very tall, which I liked. But the halter thing doesn't seem to work as well on me when it comes to wedding gowns, and the rest of the gown felt very plain.


I found a couple of dresses I liked that were too small for me to try on, so my sister stepped in and modeled them for me. First, a dress that I absolutely loved and that looked totally beautiful on my sister--but it was very unforgiving, especially in the stomach, and I was pretty sure it wouldn't look nearly as good on me. Which is too bad, because it was an absolute steal at $150.


And another dress that looked great on her, making her waist look tiny, but somehow I couldn't quite wrap my head around the idea of it on me.


Just one left now, and while I liked it very much, it didn't call to me nearly as much as my front-runner did. The shopping experience was overall very useful for me and made me feel a lot happier and more excited about wearing a wedding gown. And this last dress was definitely pretty--great satin, a good cut, an interesting neckline, and it suited me--but it just didn't feel exactly, perfectly right the way the front-runner did. None of the dresses we saw this weekend did.

Still, it was a gorgeous dress and if for some reason I am unable to get my front-runner, this dress would be a suitable backup.


So this upcoming weekend, my sister and I are going back to the original bridal boutique to look at my front-runner again and make sure that we aren't hallucinating about how great it was. And if we weren't, and it is as perfect as we remember, then I will be ordering it. And it really should be perfect, because it incorporates all the elements that we liked about these other dresses--interesting neckline, asymmetrical bodice, a-line skirt, gorgeous satin material, lovely train, flattering on a pear shape. Like I said. Perfect.

So now I know. The third, and hopefully final, volume in this saga should be appearing next week.

Unpurple

So, even though I was so excited when I posted on Wednesday, the day wound up going downhill in the afternoon. There were a lot of factors, but they were not improved by me dropping a purple vase that Torsten gave me and watching it shatter on the floor. Nor were they improved by the fact that when the save-the-dates arrived, I discovered that they did not, in fact, meet my standards for purple.

I realize this is my own fault for not ordering a sample ahead of time, but it looked so pretty on the site. And it was called "amethyst." I have an amethyst ring that Torsten gave me, and it absolutely does meet my definition of purple. I fell prey to marketing and to the cruel inaccuracies of my LCD screen.

However, the STDs are still very nice--good quality paper, pretty font, nice design. And I am probably the only person other than my sister who will look at them and think, "That isn't purple." Torsten thinks it's purple. I think it's an eggplanty pink. Certainly not the gorgeous purple I was anticipating.

But once bitten, twice shy. The second I saw the color of the STDs, I went straight onto the website where we plan to order our actual invitations (not the same vendor) and ordered a sample. I will not make the same mistake twice. And I care a lot more about the invitations than I do about the STDs. Especially because the STDs have only a small amount of (what was supposed to be) purple, whereas the invitations are entirely purple. Oh, yes they are.

So, we'll look at this as a learning experience. And not a reason to get all upset. Oh, and for those people who asked to see the STD? Here is the sample. The real one has our full names and actual URL, but otherwise the wording is the same.

And the other reason why Wednesday went downhill? Well, it might have had something to do with almost getting killed during our volleyball game. We were in a gym that had these big sheet things hanging from the ceiling. It was the middle of our last game of the set, and out of the corner of my eye I noticed movement toward the ceiling. I glanced up to see one of the sheets billowing around, detached from one of the metal rods that had been holding it in place.

And then I saw the metal rod itself start to fall from the very high ceiling. It almost happened in slow motion, it was so surreal. It was surrounded by huge amounts of dust that had been trapped in the sheet--such big pieces that it looked like feathers. It almost seemed like the rod was floating as it made its way to the floor. Until it slammed onto the court, about five feet from where I was standing and even closer to one of my teammates, with a very loud crash.

It was a very heavy rod, about three feet long and over an inch in diameter, made out of very thick metal. Point being that if it had landed on one of us? It literally could have killed us. Which is not exactly the type of thrill I'm looking for when I play volleyball.

The rest of the week has not been much of an improvement, I have to say. It sleeted all last night and we woke up to ice and grossness everywhere--and yet work was not canceled, and I'm extremely grumpy about that. Almost nobody is in the office, though, and while the peace is nice, the dead silence is not exactly a motivating factor.

But what IS a motivating factor is that I'm leaving a bit early today for our drive down to North Carolina. And it's supposed to be 65 degrees and sunny there tomorrow. And also? Tomorrow? Is the big Dress Day. And I am still very excited about that. Don't worry, I packed my camera. There will be a full report on Monday, I'm sure. Until then, have a great weekend!

Top 24 initial impressions

Okay, it's time for this year's reprise of last year's American Idol Contestants I Like post. First of all, let me just lodge an official complaint that this year's photo background is blue, which is a HUGE step down from last year's gorgeous purple background. This needs to be rectified. Pronto.

Now, let's start with the guys, since they went first. And can I just say as a general complaint to approximately nine out of the twelve of them? Come on, guys, what is with the camera fucking? Seriously. SERIOUSLY. Please, stop it. And especially stop it with the accompanying "aw, shucks"/"I am outside your window with binoculars RIGHT NOW" smiles. Kthanxbai.


David Archuleta is just cute. I thought his voice sounded a little weird during the song, and I've come to the conclusion that it's because he could hardly breathe from nerves. But it was so sweet how he was all breathless afterward. I think he'll be around for awhile.


Danny Noriega is very, very androgynous, but at least his pants were tight enough to make it clear that he is actually male. He's an interesting, fun performer, but his singing wasn't nearly as good last night as it has been earlier. The only reason he's really on my list is that he didn't look directly into the camera once during his performance, and that was SUCH a refreshing change.


Jason Castro was so cute and nervous and excited during the judge reactions. And I thought he was great. And I was so impressed with the guitar and the singing and the way that he did the pacing. He made it his own, as the judges are so fond of talking about. And he's so sweet and overwhelmed, like Melinda last year except that he has more than two total facial expressions.


Michael Johns was good, but I thought his rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody during Hollywood Week was better. Still, he's cute and a good singer and very charismatic. Though I didn't like the scarf. And why, why, WHY does he have to be a camera fucker? I mean, come on. Stop STARING like that. At least there were no awkward sideways smiles like some of the other guys.

Now, the girls. Let me note that I thought there were a lot more good, interesting girls than there were guys. So I was a bit more selective with the girls than I was with the guys. Therefore, honorable mentions here go to Joanne Borgello, Alaina Whitaker, and Syesha Mercado. That said, here are my personal favourites.


One of the guys last night, I think the faux punk rock one, sang the same song as Brooke White, but hers was much, much better. I don't want to like her because I don't usually go for that innocent good-girl thing, but I just think her voice is great and interesting. And I like how relaxed she is on stage. Also, thank god she appears to be growing out those heinous bangs.


Alexandréa Lushington is totally gorgeous (though I was NOT a fan of that semi-pigtailed look she had going on last night), and her voice is just really effing great, and she has all this personality. I heart her. This was the first time this week that I completely disagreed with Simon's assessment.


Asia'h Epperson has a really cool voice. I like that sort of hoarse aspect she's got going on. I heard that in her audition and thought it was the whole overcome with emotion due to the recent death of her father thing, but apparently not. She has personality too, although I didn't like that weird dance thing she did when Simon said she was his favourite of the night.


Ramiele Malubay is just really fucking good. That's all there really is to say. Oh, and also I hate her hair.


I did not like the song choice with Carly Smithson tonight, at all. I thought it was boring and the performance wasn't that good. She clearly chose it just to showcase her voice. And her voice is great. But the song sucked. However, I just discovered that she used to be Carly Hennessey before she got married, and now I've finally figured out the story behind a song that someone put on a mix CD for me awhile back, "I'm Gonna Blow Your Mind." I used to really like that song and now I'm totally startled at the connection. I hope she comes back next week with an interesting performance and a less sack-like outfit.

What did you AI lovers out there think?

Wedding week!

So is it wrong that I am inordinately excited about the fact that UPS claims to be delivering our save-the-dates today? The tracking system says that it is "out for delivery" right now. At this very moment! I am actually thrilled about going home, picking up my purple pen, and addressing sixty envelopes. I mean, I'm sure that excitement will be long gone by the third envelope, but I'm going to hang on to it for as long as possible. Because finally, something tangible for the wedding! Of course, this means Torsten needs to get on translating our wedding website into German, because once the save-the-dates go out, people will actually have the URL of the site. (Sweetie, I know you're reading this. Please, take note.)

And THEN, tomorrow, I am going to meet with our day-of coordinator about table linens. And I know that it's just table linens but also it's about purple! And details! And things actually happening! Because suddenly it's late February and our wedding is only eight months away! And that does not feel far at all. And I am so excited.

AND THEN. On Friday, we are driving down to North Carolina, so that on Saturday, my mother and sister and I can go to the big bridal superstore near my parents' house to peruse the selection of well over 1,000 different dresses, including more than 150 dresses available in plus sizes. So either my sister or I should be able to fit into pretty much all of them to try on. And I KNOW the store is good because my sister got her wedding dress there, so I have been there before and seen that they really do have the most unbelievably wide collection of dresses and sizes that one could possibly imagine.

And not to get all insane bride here, but oh my god I am so so excited and I have been looking forward to this for ages and if I don't find a dress here that I like better than my current front-runner then I will KNOW that that is the one. And if I DO find a dress that I like better then I will also know that THAT is the one. A whole day! Surrounded by wedding dresses! In a low-stress atmosphere without pushy salespeople! And so many options!

I am a tad bit excited, here, in case you couldn't tell from all the exclamation points. And the fact that I'm excited is making me more excited, because this is the first time that I have felt Really! Excited! about the dress shopping. It's like, suddenly I've realized that our wedding is going to happen, and it's going to be soon, and it's going to be FUN.

All you do is blink.

This four-day weekend seriously flew by faster than any other. The problem was that Jessie's visit was just way, way too short. But also way, way amazingly fun. We had a tragic goodbye this morning but it definitely will NOT be two years until we see each other again, so that is the good news. And also, we had a fabulous time while she was here, so that is the other good news.

We spent yesterday at the biggest mall in the DC area, checking out all the department stores in hopes of finding a purple bridesmaid dress for her. And you know what is frustrating? Even though I keep hearing all sorts of things about how purple is supposedly in this season? It was almost nowhere to be found. We dug a few things off the clearance rack at Macy's, but nothing was right, and all the other stores were a complete bust. Almost.

At one point we were so desperate that we went into a Jessica McClintock store and actually had her try on what may have been the most hideous purple dress in existence. It was so purple that it was nearly neon, and it had a really inappropriately low-cut halter neckline, and the skirt was pleated, but like really intensely pleated, like an accordion, seriously. And also the skirt didn't even come down to the knees.

But we were so determined to find a dress that she tried it on anyway, and oh my god, I'm so glad she did because the laughter that it induced was absolutely amazing. Let me note now that I actually have her permission to post the following picture, with the request that you all ignore the highly visible bra:


We did actually wind up finding a really nice, inexpensive dress in gold, but the store said that it came in purple too, but they didn't have the catalog yet, so let's keep our fingers crossed that that works out, because wow, even though I'm a girl and they're supposed to be good at shopping? By the end of the day, I just could not take it anymore. It was just so much. And Jessie felt the same way. We may have spent a good twenty minutes collapsed in this awesome armchairs at Bloomingdale's that were obviously placed there for men to sit in while their wives/girlfriends/whatever keep shopping. But maybe that's why Jessie and I get along so well.

She is great. The visit was great. I know that as I write this she is still in our apartment, but I miss her already.

I gave in.

I know I was going to keep growing my hair out until the wedding, but after almost a year, I just couldn't take it anymore. My hair is so thick and curly that when it's long it starts to lose its shape, and it also weighs itself down and doesn't curl as much. And there's just so MUCH of it that it starts to take me over. Plus it takes forever to wash and clogs the tub drain all the time and gets caught in things. So yesterday I finally gave in and chopped off four inches.

Before:



After, yesterday (when straightened by the stylist):


After, today (curly again after a shower):


I like my hair better short, curly, and loose. And that's how I'm going to wear it in my wedding. I don't want a fancy updo--I want to look like myself. And to be honest, I've known that for ages. So, the hair went. And I feel great.

All wrong

I didn't think I cared very much about Valentine's Day, but apparently I do, because yesterday sucked. I was positive Torsten was going to send me flowers. The year before, our first Valentine's Day together, he didn't get me flowers because he thought I was the type of girl who didn't care about Valentine's flowers, and I was very upset about that, and this year I told him several times that I would like flowers, because the type of girl that I am not is the type who expects her significant other to read her mind.

So, I told him that I would like flowers on Valentine's Day, and I would like them sent to the office so that I could pick them up from the receptionist and set them on my desk and admire them all day and have other people admire them all day. And I told him not to waste his money on red roses because I like purple flowers much better anyway.

And I was sure he would get me flowers. I cleared off a space on my desk and I waited and waited for the flowers, and no flowers came, and at around three o'clock I finally caved in and IMed him and asked why there were no flowers, and then he got very upset because it turned out he had gotten me flowers but they hadn't arrived yet. And he had paid extra to have them delivered on Valentine's Day, and then they didn't show up until after four.

And when they did show up, they were in a cardboard box, because he didn't get them from a florist, he got them from 1-800-flowers, which is a stupid crappy website that ships you your stupid flowers FedEx, which is why they were so late because FedEx isn't a florist and they have no awareness of timing, like the fact that Valentine's Day flowers that show up right before you leave work DON'T COUNT.

And I didn't even bother opening the box because given the upcoming four day weekend I figured it would be better to leave them in the box so they wouldn't die, and bring them home and enjoy them there. So I hauled the box from work to dinner, and dinner was fine, it was good even. And I thought I was over the fact that I was expectantly waiting for flowers all day and feeling like an idiot for having cleared a space for them and feeling wildly, irrationally unloved about it.

And then we got home and opened the flower box, and it was just a crappy bouquet of pink tulips in plastic wrap. It looked like something that you could buy at the grocery store for $10, except that he paid way more than $10 for it, and also they were pink and not purple, and also they looked like they were about to die and a bunch of them were crushed, and what stupid company thinks it's a good idea to ship flowers in a cardboard box? And also the company guaranteed overnight delivery for freshness, but according to FedEx tracking, the flowers actually shipped on Tuesday morning and didn't arrive until Thursday afternoon, so that is almost three days in transit, which might explain why they were crushed and half-dead.

Torsten was very upset too, and he showed me the picture of how they were supposed to look online, and he was right that they were much prettier online, but even still, they were pink, ugly pink and I don't like pink, I like purple. In fact I fairly strongly dislike pink. And I guess he was swayed by the fact that the website said something about how they were cultivated in Holland, which is a bunch of useless marketing crap anyway and who cares where they were grown and besides, local flowers are the best because they are fresh and nice, not that it matters in February, but at least they could have come from a god damn florist who would have arranged them in a vase and delivered them in a timely manner.

And at first I was okay about the whole thing, because geez, it's just a stupid manufactured holiday and my fiance tried, he really tried to send me pretty purple flowers and even though it didn't work out quite right, I still have an amazing and loving fiance and it's just some stupid pink tulips and regardless he's going to call and demand his money back given that the flowers were delivered really late and half dead. So it wasn't a waste of money.

And then we were sitting on the couch and he moved his arm suddenly as I was moving too and he inadvertently whacked me in the side of the head, and it hurt but not THAT much, and yet I totally burst into tears and started completely freaking out. And I knew, I KNEW that I was being irrational, I could TELL that it was just stupid hormones combined with the stress of disappointedly waiting for flowers all day, but probably mostly the hormones, but it doesn't matter if it's hormones making you cry because it still feels shitty, even if you know the reason.

And Torsten tried to make me feel better, he tried to touch me and hold me and even though logically in my head I wanted him to touch me, whenever he actually did touch me I shrank away, I wasn't ready to be touched because I was just so frustrated, and there was nothing that could be done because all I wanted was for once to get some god damn Valentine's flowers that were pretty and showed up on time, and is that really too much to ask? And also the next two years Valentine's Day will be on a weekend so the next opportunity for this issue to be rectified is in 2011, and that feels very far away right now.

But it was just so weird, I was there being insane, being irrational, and knowing it and yet I couldn't stop it, I was crying and curled up in a ball and Torsten was being so supportive and apologizing and I kept telling him it wasn't his fault and I meant it, because it really wasn't, because god damn it he tried to send me purple flowers on Valentine's Day and what more could he have done? Except not order from a stupid website that ships flowers FedEx from a warehouse instead of working with local florists like Teleflora does, and now he knows, and 1-800-flowers is officially on our shit list and will never be used again.

But there was just nothing he could do, nothing that was right because I was frustrated by the outcome of a situation that could not be reversed and so anything that he did was going to be wrong, and so he just sat there impotently while I freaked out, and of course that was the wrong thing to do too, and oh, the poor boy. It just really should not be that much to ask to have a simple Valentine's Day that goes smoothly and involves pretty flowers that arrive in the morning.

And yeah, I feel spoiled because oh tragedy, my fabulous fiance spent too much money sending me flowers he thought I would love for a holiday that doesn't matter, and really, if I'm looking for problems maybe I should try getting some real ones? But damn it it DID feel like a real problem and still, now, the next day when things are supposed to feel sunny and bright again, I look over at those god damn crumpled pink tulips and I kind of want to throw them on the floor.

W-w-w-weekend

Remember how last month, I had a four-day weekend due to my office's compressed workweek policy? Well, it's that time again! I have tomorrow off due to CWW and Monday off due to President's Day. And I am very, very excited. Although I did have a brief scare this morning when I mentioned something about my four-day weekend to a coworker who was like, "We don't have Monday off," prompting a mad flurry of email and intranet searching and phone calls before we verified that we do, in fact, have Monday off.

Which is especially important for me because my best friend (and bridesmaid) will be visiting on Monday! She arrives on Sunday and leaves on Tuesday morning and we have already planned to spend most of Monday looking for a bridesmaid dress for her. I told my bridesmaids to just pick any purple dress they wanted, so we will be attempting to go the department store route and avoid actual bridesmaid dresses if at all possible. Unfortunately, the mall will probably be jam-packed on Monday due to President's Day sales. But that's a small price to pay. I actually wrote about this visit (and dress shopping plan) way back in September, and I am, as I said then, dying with excitement that the visit has already (almost) arrived.

Anyway, I haven't actually seen her since we graduated because I moved to DC and she moved to San Francisco and before we had a chance to visit, she ran off to Nicaragua for over a year on a Fulbright scholarship. She's only been back in San Francisco for a couple of months and this is the first chance she's had to come visit. And oh my god does it ever suck not to see your best friend for almost two years! Especially when before that you could see her pretty much every day because you were living all of 200 yards apart on campus. This is the problem with the real world.

But I'm not complaining, because Sunday is only three days away! And before that, to pass the time, I have Valentine's dinner plans with Torsten (including an adorable polka dot dress and fantastic purple heels), sleeping-in plans with our bed, cleaning plans with our apartment, and shopping plans with my Target gift card.

Update: Since there have been so many requests for photos of the shoes and dress in the comments, I put my Google skills to work. Here you go:



Have a great weekend!

Good doctors DO exist.

Yesterday I went to the endocrinologist for the first of what will likely be many visits to start dealing with my hypothyroidism. I had originally made an appointment for March, because that was the first one available, but they had a last-minute cancellation and I had put myself on the waiting list for those, because I wasn't excited about waiting two months for my appointment. And that trick paid off, because I wound up waiting only one month.

Anyway, the endocrinologist was great. Seriously, he was fantastic. I did a lot of research before I picked him, and I'm glad of it. First of all, he spent over an hour in the office with me. Second of all, he was incredibly thorough, made sure to explain all of my options to me, and answered all of my questions. He also kept asking me if I had more questions in a way that implied that he really meant it, as opposed to most doctors who seem to be saying, "Anymorequestions?" in a rushed whisper as they are halfway out the door.

He explained to me that I have a mild case, which I had guessed based on the fact that I had hardly any of the symptoms, and told me that while he would recommend treating it now, since it was a mild case I had the option of just monitoring for the moment and not taking synthetic thyroid hormone. I told him that I wanted to treat and he still went ahead and elaborated on the options, just to make sure I was making an informed decision.

He did an ultrasound of my thyroid, said it's a bit enlarged, and said as well that my current dose of Synthroid is very low and that he'll probably need to raise it. But he wanted to do bloodwork first, so that he could give an informed prescription. The nurse took three whole vials of blood, which absolutely sucked. I have never had that much blood drawn at once for a test. I have given blood before, which took longer, but I don't know what was different--maybe I was expecting it then? Maybe they used a better vein that time? But this time, it was slow, and it hurt.

The doctor also said that the Synthroid takes six weeks to start working, which made me feel better because I haven't seen any effects yet. Speaking of which, we sucked it up and got a new scale, and now I am grumpy because it is five pounds higher than our old scale (using Torsten as my control group since his weight is pretty stable). I had suspected that our old scale was a little low, and now it's been confirmed. But I LIKED it that way.

Anyway, I think I can honestly say that despite the crappy blood drawing process, this was the best experience I have ever had with a doctor. And I am happy about that, because I'll be seeing him regularly. This condition requires treatment for life. With my last doctor, that sounded like a threat. With this one, not so much.

Two voices, one vote

We voted this morning. Well, I voted. Torsten is not a US citizen and therefore does not get to vote. But he came with me to the polling station, waited in line with me while I checked in, and politely stood to the side while I cast my ballot. In case I secretly voted for Hillary without telling him? I'm not sure. I guess he did it on the same principle that causes me to look totally in the opposite direction if someone is typing their PIN. Just to make sure they don't think I'm trying to steal it, even though they know full well that I'm not.

Anyway, Torsten and I both support Obama, so I consider my vote to be cast on behalf of both of us. And if you live in DC, Maryland, or Virginia, today is the day, so go cast your vote. Especially if you're going to vote for Obama. Just kidding. Sort of.

In other news, remember how I posted yesterday about how I ordered wedding stamps? Well, last night I saw this article about how postage is going up 1 cent in May. Half the stamps that I ordered will still be good for sending out the save-the-dates, because those are going out before May. The other half will require the addition of a 1-cent stamp. And all I can say is that they had better introduce a purple 1-cent stamp, QUICK. Because I do not want to blemish our RSVP envelopes with these hideous green, lamp-adorned stamps. Oh, I am bitter about this.

Also, I've learned something about Torsten recently: when he's in pain, he gets all panicky and generally acts like a paranoid hypochondriac. It is tempting, therefore, to be dismissive of his panic. However, when he acts like that, there is always something wrong. Yesterday was no exception. He had a mild toothache over the weekend and by Sunday night was all freaking out and unable to sleep, partly because of the pain but also because he was so worried.

I, being the bad fiancée that I am, told him he probably had a cavity or something and should just make a dentist appointment and not worry about it. Of course, it turns out that he has a strong distaste for dentists ever since his old dentist in Germany inadvertently drilled into his nerve without anesthesia. So he spent a couple of hours obsessively researching dentists online and finally managed to find one that was a) highly recommended, b) across the street from his office, and c) covered under his dental insurance plan. Let me tell you, finding all three of those things in one dentist? Nothing short of a miracle. Especially given Torsten's very high standards.

Anyway, so he went to the dentist yesterday, and wound up having a root canal on the spot. I did not even know what a root canal entailed until yesterday, and believe me, I wish I still didn't know. It sounds absolutely horrible. Apparently it wasn't as bad as it sounds, but still. Ugh. Just thinking about it makes me shudder. And he'll have to go back next week to have the root canal finished, and then again to have a crown put on.

And also? We're lucky in that both of us have dental insurance. But even with? The root canal is covered at 80%, and the crown is covered at only 50%, and apparently crowns are very expensive, like possibly $1,000 or more. And he has a $1,500 annual maximum, and he's already used about half of that on x-rays and the root canal. My question is, why couldn't this have happened a month and a half ago so he could have had half the work done in 2007 and saved some of his annual maximum for this year? Now we just have to hope that he doesn't need any dental work for the rest of the year.

Now, just to re-emphasize: DC, Maryland, and Virginia readers, go vote!

Yay purple wedding!

Last week, we finally got the German guest list from Torsten's parents, which means that our guest list is more or less finalized. I don't know what the response rate will be, but I think we still have a hope of keeping our wedding to 75 guests. Our dream of 50 seems unlikely, but on the other hand, if we were to have only 50 guests, it would mean that people who really matter to us weren't there. So I'll be happy with 75. Although who knows what the final number will be.

Anyway, because we have something close to a final number, I was able to order the save-the-dates. I placed the order on Wednesday night, and they are scheduled to arrive sometime next week. I am so excited. We paid the money to have our return address pre-printed on the envelopes, but we plan to address them by hand. By which I mean, I plan to address them by hand, because Torsten's handwriting sucks.

I read all this stuff about calligraphers and whatnot, and while I like calligraphy as much as the next person? I don't see a need to have it, especially given how much it costs. One of my favourite things about receiving letters from friends is the hand-addressed envelope that just screams of "personal" the second you see it in your mailbox, before you even know who it's from. I want our invitations to feel like that. And I have pretty good handwriting. And we're only sending about 60 actual cards.

So, I will be hand-addressing our save-the-dates, and also our invitations. And yes, I will be doing so with a purple pen. Are you really surprised?

And also, I went ahead and ordered the stamps to send the save-the-dates and also to put on the return envelopes for the RSVPs. I only wish I already knew whether the invitations themselves would require extra postage or not. I never knew that those love stamps you always see? Those are designed for weddings. The post office always has a wedding stamp available in 1- and 2-ounce rates. And the current 1-ounce wedding stamp, the one that I ordered? It's purple!

Speaking of our wedding and purple (and the two DO go hand-in-hand), my successful meeting with the florist and our extensive discussion of the decor made me start thinking about the details of our wedding. And honestly? That's almost all that's left. I had a great conversation with a potential officiant on the phone, and he's out of town for a few weeks, but we have a meeting set up with him in early March, and if he's in great in person as he was on the phone, then we're set. And if not, I have several other leads.

The ceremony and reception venue, the caterer, the photographer, the DJ (who will also be doing the ceremony music), and the florist have all been arranged. I'm going to NC to look for a dress in a couple of weeks. As I mentioned, the guest list is done and the save-the-dates have been ordered. The invitations have been chosen, though we don't need to order those yet. The officiant is almost sorted out. The menu has been selected. Blocks of rooms have been booked at two different hotels.

Those are all the big things. The only big thing we haven't done yet is the cake, and that's next on my list. Makeup artist, transportation, tux rentals, and bridesmaid dresses must still be selected--but those things can be dealt with slowly, over time, and don't need to be handled this far out. And from there, it's all about the details. Attendant gifts, guest favors, linen colors, place cards. The fun little stuff that most people probably won't even notice--stuff that will not make or break the party.

I am excited about that stuff. I just arranged a meeting with the "complimentary" day-of coordinator provided by our caterer. We'll be getting together next week at the reception site and reviewing table linen options and other such thrilling details. I haven't asked her specifically about purple, but she mentioned in an email that solid linens in any color are included in our contract. So it seems--knock on wood--that a purple table (similar to the one on my wedding inspiration board) may well be in the cards for us.

So, in view of this upcoming table linen summit, I thought I'd double check with Torsten about my purple tablecloth plan, in case he found the idea upsetting. And his response? "I would be upset if there weren't purple tablecloths!"

And that, right there, is why we are the perfect match.

Mini copyediting course, part 2

I wrote a useful post once. Apparently, it was so useful (and such a break from the norm around here) that people wanted more. So, I'm here to provide you with even more nitpicky information about basic editing and proofreading.

But before I start, let me make it clear that I do not judge blogs by editorial standards. As long as it's coherent and decently written, I don't sit there picking apart comma usage, etc. They're blogs. They're informal forms of personal expression. The stuff I'm talking about here has to do with my job, and standards for formal documents designed for official presentation to and use by other people. So don't worry. Yes, I work as an editor. No, I'm not mentally editing your blog as I read it.

Okay. First, let's talk about the serial semicolon. According to my trusty Chicago Manual of Style, there are two times when a serial semicolon should be used in place of a comma. The first, and more common, is when items in a series contain punctuation of their own. Let's take the example of resumes, since that's what I've been editing recently.

First, a standard series, using commas: Jess writes, edits, and formats.

Now, where the serial comma would come into play would be in a longer sentence where the above series becomes part of a bigger overall series. For example: Jess updates the website regularly; writes, edits, and formats web content; and tracks web statistics.

It is also possible for a semicolon to be used in place of a comma when items in a series are particularly long and complex. In my personal opinion, this is a fairly rare circumstance, and honestly, if your items in a series are so long that they need something stronger than a comma to separate them, and yet they don't require any independent punctuation of their own, they probably need to be reworded. But that's just me.

Now, since we're discussing semicolons anyway, let's look at them a little bit more generally. There are many instances in which a semicolon can be used. But in the interest of brevity, I'm going to distill the rules down to one simple edict: the semicolon can be used if, and only if, the clauses on either side of the semicolon are independent. That is, they must be able to feasibly function as independent sentences. So I could say, for example; "I'm hungry; I haven't eaten all day." Because "I'm hungry" could be its own sentence, and so could, "I haven't eaten all day."

Okay, moving on to other fun punctuation: possessive apostrophes! First of all, its vs. it's. I know this is confusing, because in general one adds an apostrophe S to the end of a word to make it possessive. However, "it" is an exception. "It's" is a contraction that stands for "it is." "Its" is possessive. A dog does not lick it's own balls; a dog licks its own balls. Excuse the crass example.

The other confusing thing about the apostrophe S is attaching it to words that end in S. What's important here is that it's not just whether or not the noun ends in S; it's whether or not it's a singular or plural noun. This rule depends on which style guide you follow. I have my own preferences, though, and they align perfectly with the Chicago Manual, which is essentially the editor's Bible. So, that's what we're going to use.

The general rule, according to the Chicago Manual, is: "The possessive of most singular nouns is formed by adding an apostrophe and an s, and the possessive of plural nouns (except for a few irregular plurals that do not end in s) by adding an apostrophe only."

Got it? If it's singular, you use the S. If it's plural, you don't. So Torsten isn't Jess' fiancé; he's Jess's fiancé. Even though my name ends in S, it is a singular noun and thus the S is is used after the apostrophe.

However, of course, there are exceptions, and not just the one mentioned in the above quote. I'm not going to cover all of them, since some are rather obscure, but there are a couple worth noting. First, if a noun ends in S and is the same in both singular and plural form, such as economics or politics, only the apostrophe is used to make it possessive. If the name of a place or organization, such as the United States, involves a plural noun at the end, only the apostrophe is used to make it possessive. And "For...sake" expressions where the noun ends in S use only the apostrophe, such as "for goodness' sake."

The reason, according to the Chicago Manual, that so many of us are taught that it is okay to leave off the S for all singular nouns that end in S is just to avoid having to worry about exceptions. This is technically accepted practice. But I hate it. Since my name ends in S, I'm allowed to have such a strong opinion. And I do. And now you know what it is.

Blood on my hands

I am responsible for the death of a mouse. I didn't actually kill it myself, but I might as well have.

Last week, I walked out of my cubicle (which is next to a small kitchen) and was startled by a sense of speedy movement near my feet. I glanced down just in time to see a small, brown mouse disappear into the kitchen. It looked like it had crawled underneath the cabinet, though when I looked I could not see any hole at all that it might have fit into. To be fair, I didn't want to get too close in case the mouse was still there.

Anyway, I was totally stuck about what to do--pretend I hadn't seen it and go on my way? Jump up and down and shriek? Try to catch it? I wound up sending an email to Facilities, telling them that I had seen a mouse and could they please do something about it.

And with that one simple email, I killed a mouse. I could have not said anything, and the mouse would still be alive today. But I did say something, and someone came over and set a trap. There was, apparently, nowhere in the kitchen to set it, so they set it in my cubicle, behind my desk. That was on Friday. They said they'd be back on Monday to check it, but they weren't, so after a couple days, I finally mustered up the courage to check the damn trap myself.

And of course, there it was, with a little mouse corpse on top of it. I think it was on top of it, anyway. I almost broke my neck with the speed that I snapped my head away from the sight, so I can't be totally sure. So, naturally, I sent another email to Facilities. And someone came by a few hours later with a trash bag and gloves, and carted the mouse and trap away.

And even though I was totally icked out by the mouse? And even though I am really not happy that I sat at my desk for several days, just feet away from its dead body? And even though I was convinced that I could smell it, even though I only started noticing the smell once I'd seen that the body was there, which means that I totally psyched myself into smelling an odor that most likely wasn't actually there? I still feel massively, horribly guilty for having caused it to die. I mean, it was just a little mouse. And it was kind of cute.

In other rodent-related news, today is the first day of the Chinese New Year, which means that it is now officially the Year of the Rat, which is my Zodiac sign. I suppose I should have realized that earlier, since I'll be 24 this year and there are 12 different Zodiac signs, but I didn't. Not until Google informed me via the very cute graphic in their header today.

And by the way, I blame images like that, which make rodents look cute, for making me feel guilty about the death of that mouse.

From Lacoste to London

I skipped the Tuesday Retrospective yesterday for the second time in three weeks. After four months, I'm starting to feel like I'm stretching for a good memory to talk about, one that inspires me to write. And I don't want to feel like I'm forcing myself to write about a particular subject for the sake of a self-imposed weekly blog tradition. Especially not when I have something else on my mind that I want to discuss.

But I love the feature. It's taken me through a lot of good memories and produced some good posts. So I'm not canceling it. But I'm going to scale it back from every Tuesday to just those Tuesdays when I really have something relevant I want to talk about.

In other news, our scale is broken. It's been broken for over a week and because we bought it over a month ago (six months, to be exact), Amazon told us we have to talk directly to the company to get a replacement. Which I did. And I have to ship it back to them (and pay for the shipping myself) and then wait several weeks for a new scale. Which I find infuriating.

And, horribly, it is making me much less motivated about Weight Watchers. Yes, this is supposed to be not just about the number on the scale but also about my health overall. And it is. But still. I like to see the results of my efforts in numerical form on a daily basis. It helps me keep my willpower. Without that confirmation of my success, it's hard to keep from slipping.

Also, I really wanted to closely track my weight loss rate now that I've started on thyroid hormones, and without the scale, I can't. AND because every scale is a little bit different, I won't really be able to know how much weight I've lost overall since I started, either.

By the way, on American Idol last night, Ryan Seacrest was wearing the exact same Lacoste shirt that I got for Torsten for his birthday for half price at Macy's. Is Ryan stylish? Should this be a compliment to my/Torsten's taste? Or is it a problem? I would show you a picture of Ryan in the shirt, but I swear, there is not one to be found. I literally went through all 523 photos in the Atlanta gallery on the American Idol website, and found nothing. NOTHING.

Lastly, I've spent the last two days editing 125 pages of resumes for a proposal. At first, I was tolerant of mistakes. By the end, I was enraged at any and all people who have ever inappropriately availed themselves of the serial semicolon. So, I think I'll use my frustration for good, and at some point in the next few days, post Part 2 of my mini copyediting course. I swear, it won't be angry.

The other good thing about this huge pile of editing? I get to use the extra hours as comp time during our trip to Germany in April. So that helps make me feel less grumpy about going. And also? We've officially booked our tickets, and to make me feel even less grumpy? We're spending three days in London before we go to Germany. And it's actually saving us money to do so. The flight to London was cheaper than flying directly to Germany, and we don't have to pay for a hotel because Torsten's best friend lives there. Which is the real reason we're going.

I haven't been to London since I was eleven years old. I am SO. EXCITED.

Being overweight is un-PC.

I am sick of the apparently publicly accepted, PC approach to obesity in America.

I've written about what it's like to be fat before, but that was personal. This time, it's not just about me. This is about a societal attitude toward overweight people.

Doctors either don't mention it at all--hence a doctor who told me that I was "voluptuous" instead of testing my thyroid, which, as I learned years later, was underactive--or they blame everything on obesity and fail to find the real source of some overweight patients' problems. Fat prejudice is prevalent in health care, and it can keep overweight patients from seeking or getting the treatment they need.

Mississippi is proposing a bill that would prohibit restaurants from serving overweight patrons. The legislator who proposed it doesn't want it to pass, he says; he just wants to call attention to the problem. Truly, how kind. What problem is that? The problem where not enough Americans are looking down at overweight people, and assuming that body size is an indicator of health? Or the problem where not every overweight person is silently (or not-so-silently) judged by others for daily decisions like what to eat for dinner?

A New York Times article about brides' obsession with weight loss (which is, to be fair, an interesting and readable piece) mentions that over half the brides surveyed were of normal BMI. Yet the article states at the end that doctors should capitalize on this obsession to encourage engaged women to focus on losing weight the healthy way, even once the wedding is over. What about the majority of those women, the ones who were already at a healthy weight? Should they be encouraged to lose another ten pounds too?

Some doctors have suggested putting warning labels about the health risks of obesity in plus-size clothing. There's a thoughtful idea that wouldn't alienate fat people more than they already are. The condescension in such proposals is painful.

We are all obsessed with BMI, even though it's a flawed indicator that isn't particularly specific to individuals, since it depends on muscle mass and other factors. Swistle has a great post about what's classified as "plus-size," with a link to a fascinating slide show about what BMI says about real people's body types.

Obesity is a problem in the US. But it isn't a problem on its own. It's a problem because it has a lot of dangerous co-morbidities, such as increased risk of heart disease, diabetes, and certain types of cancer. It needs to be reduced. Our country needs to be healthier.

But we need to be healthier in terms of making healthy food choices, staying active, and generally taking care of our bodies. Obesity can be used as an easy indicator for those things. But it's become too easy in this country to use overweight as a stand-in for the real problem. To blame problems on that. To assume that if an overweight person has a health problem, it's because they're overweight. To make judgments about fat people, that they're lazy or that they hate themselves.

What it comes down to is that it's societally acceptable to couch our distaste for fat people in the language of good health. We have given ourselves permission to judge overweight people based on their size. And I do not understand why that's okay.

The bratwurst was a hit.

So, I thought that I didn't have a preference between the Pats and the Giants, but actually? When we were watching the game? I found myself sincerely wanting the Giants to win. Maybe it was Bill Belichick's stupid sweatshirt, or Eli Manning's adorable baby face. But I was totally rooting for the Giants. And my preference was confirmed correct when Belichick walked into the tunnel before the game officially ended. That just screamed of sore loser.

Also, I had a lot of fun at our Super Bowl gathering. It was originally going to include nine guests, but one couple had to cancel at the last minute, so there wound up being seven guests plus the two of us. We had intended to just grab a few things at the grocery store for food, but we wound up going a little crazy at Whole Foods and Giant. That, combined with each of our guests bringing at least one dish, led us into a party that featured the following menu:

• Bratwurst on baguette
• Pretzels from the Auntie Anne's DIY kit
  
• Edamame
• Marinated olives
  
• Carrots and ranch dip
  
• Crab and artichoke dip
• Salami
  
• Aged cheddar cheese
• Baked brie
• Garlic melba toast, water crackers, and whole wheat crackers
• Fresh guacamole, salsa, and tortilla chips
• Sausage and cream cheese dip
• Doritos and cheese puffs
  
• Hot wings
• Yellow cake with chocolate frosting
• Lemon bars
• Brownies
• Caramel truffles
• Four types of beer, as well as soda and apple cider

And the amazing thing? The nine of us managed to pretty much destroy all that food. Yes, there are some chips and cake left, and the dregs of everything else, but when everyone had left and we looked at the table that was once covered with an array of food I thought we'd never get through? It was looking pretty bare.

There's always that letdown after a party, when the last guest leaves and the food is still lying out and the thought of eating anything else makes you want to hurl. But you don't want to leave everything sitting out all night, especially in the apartment that was spick and span in honour of your guests just a few short hours earlier.

And also? It feels late and you're crashing from that sugar high and why is the Super Bowl on a Sunday? Shouldn't it be on a weekend night when you can sleep in the next day and recover from the massive amount of food and beer you ingested?

Although, I did a good job not eating incredible piles of unhealthy food, and also of saving most of my daily calories for the evening so that I wouldn't surpass my weekly Weight Watchers allowance. Go me.

Still, if I don't see another Dorito for at least a month, that will be soon enough for me.

I don't like the rain.

I'm back from my business trip. Which, by the way, was to Atlanta. Sorry I forgot to mention that little detail in my last post. The trip was fantastic. We had a really great, productive meeting, and I felt totally on the ball. I had answers to all the questions and we were able to really collaborate and brainstorm. The meeting ran completely on schedule and I got a lot of really useful feedback to start doing Round 2 of this website. And I got the sense that the clients really liked me.

Also, on Wednesday night I totally watched Moment of Truth, because I knew Torsten would never agree to watch it so it was my only opportunity to see it. And all these bloggy people kept telling me that even though it looked like a terrible show, I had to watch it, just once.

So, I watched it. Just once. And never again. Honestly, I just didn't like it. Not because it gave me that weird squirmy feeling that shows like that can give. I didn't even like it as a guilty pleasure. I just thought it was dull. First of all, the secrets just aren't that interesting. Okay, the guy has a gambling problem and hit on his girlfriend's friend once right after they started dating. Fine, the beauty queen thinks she's prettier than her sister (which is true). Juicy.

The other thing that I can't deal with is how incredibly slowly the show moves. It is just so dragged out. It's not just those ridiculous long pauses while you wait to hear if the answer is true or false. It's the whole rigmarole about asking whether the person really wants to continue and risk facing more and more questions. On and on and on just to learn a bunch of boring secrets about random people.

And this is what I really don't get. The people act all shocked and horrified whenever they hear a question. And when they're deciding if they're going to keep going they act all anxious, like they're afraid of what questions they're going to be asked.

But the whole premise of the show is that they took the polygraph test ahead of time. So they KNOW what the questions are going to be. I mean, yeah, there were 50 questions on the polygraph and only 21 of them will be asked on the show, but still, they know what the possibilities are. They therefore have fair warning if there's a horrible question that they won't want to answer on national television. And if there were such a question, they can pretty much bet that it will be asked on the show. It's not like the producers are going to let slide the opportunity to, for example, force a guy to tell his wife he cheated on her.

So, the show pretty much sucked. And I don't see the appeal. Can someone please explain it to me?

Anyway, this feels like a very short week, mostly because of the business trip. It's already Friday and the Super Bowl is on Sunday. I like watching football but I'm not really supporting either side. What I'm looking forward to is a good game, great commercials, and the little Super Bowl gathering that we're having with a few friends. That will be the best part.