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August 24, 2011

Moving Day

So... I have a new home.

Or, at least my blog does.

I explained the why over there, but I just have to say, it's been a wonderful ten years here at Wandering Aimlessly. I'll be extremely sad to see it go. To no longer be visiting.

Shelley, thank you for letting my blog live on your server for so long. It's had a happy home here, and has seen a decade of my life. This blog, especially its name and the web address, brings me right back to college. Nostalgia, even without reading old-old posts!

So long, some-dreams.com/wandering! *wipes tear*

August 18, 2011

"Thinly-Veiled Cat Pic-Spam" OR "The Tale of Monet and Cymbeline"

Five-almost-six years ago, Caitlin and I cooked our very first "real" Thanksgiving dinner--with "real" grown-ups (Kenny's parents) in attendance! It went really well, for the record. I stayed overnight on an air mattress on her living room floor, since going home to an empty house didn't appeal when the next day was my birthday.

For my birthday, Caitlin and I went down to the local animal shelter to look at kittens. Gen and I, recently roommates, had decided to get two cats. One for her, and one for me, so we'd be clear whose cat was whose at the "inevitable divorce," as we called it. Since Gen was out of town for the holiday, I was going to look at one kitten. And probably not take one home at all. Probably.

But then, there was this two-headed ball of fur in one of the cages. Two tiny kitten bodies wrapped so tightly around each other in sleep that you couldn't tell what limb belonged to which kitten.

Lap pile


"That one's Sweetie Pie," the shelter worker said, pointing, "and she's Baby Girl. They're not from the same litter, but they've been together since just about birth."

First week home

Two kittens. Two kittens who came together as a package deal, as far as I was concerned. I got to hold and snuggle and pet both kittens, and my heart melted.

I called Gen. "I came to the shelter just to look, and there are two really adorable kittens here!"

The shelter worker took my phone and explained Sweetie Pie and Baby Girl's story.

Since Gen really wanted to be involved in kitten-choosing, I told her I'd wait and we could come back Monday, when she was back in town.

Then a family with about thirty-seven kids (four or five, really, but they were everywhere) came in, and immediately found my two-headed bundle of fur. "Only one," the mother said. And then pointed at Baby Girl and asked to see her.

I urgently hissed into the phone, "There's a family here, and they're going to split up the kittens!"

"...We're changing their names, RIGHT?" Gen asked.

That's how Gen and I came to have kittens. Monet (mine) and Cymbeline (hers).

Tiny Monet Christmas Cymbeline

And now, we're on the verge of that "inevitable divorce." Not just of Gen and me as roommates, but of Monet and Cymbeline as adoptive sister kitties.


Something interesting

And it is so freaking sad!

We're splitting up the kittens I adopted because I couldn't bear to see them split up! I thought long and hard about keeping them together. Maybe Gen should take both of them? But I couldn't do it! I couldn't just hand Monet off. And besides, then Gen would have three cats (her future-roommate has a cat) and I'd have zero.



Gen's future-roommate's aforementioned cat will (hopefully) be Cymbeline's Monet friend. And Steve and I plan to get another cat so Monet will (just as hopefully) have a friend. I'm reading up on how to introduce new cats to a household and all that.

But for now, I'm soaking up every ounce of Cymbeline-time I can get. And I feel like I've taken advantage of her over these past five years. Every morning, while I'm getting ready for work (usually during the coffee-drinking, news-watching portion of my morning), Cymbeline climbs up into my lap and starts purring and kneading and sucking on the fur of her own arm. And usually, when I need to get moving and actually, you know, get ready for work, I gently nudge her off my lap.



Lately, I just do everything I can from a cat-sitting-in-my-lap position. I do my hair and make-up with her in my lap, bring my breakfast upstairs so I can eat it when I'm ready, with Cymbeline in my lap. It's kind of crazy, I know. But I'm going to miss my little ball of Cymbeline-fur so much.


August 16, 2011

Gettin' down to business

My M.O. throughout college was to do things at the last minute, but the last minute that wouldn't leave me without sleep or missing out on anything. I never pulled an all-nighter, never skipped a birthday dinner or class because I had to study or finish a paper or project. Time pressure helped me not wander aimlessly (ha!) through a task, not over-think or dawdle, but I think I was a good enough planner to leave myself just enough time to do whatever it is that needed doing, and do it well. Not half-ass or throw together anything.

Hopefully, this time-management finesse is carrying through to the wedding.

I've had to kick it into high gear lately. My To-Do list is divided out by weekend.

This past weekend, I: got my veil, picked up my dress from alterations, got my wedding band engraved, ordered Steve's wedding band, got most of the gifts bought, made half of the table number displays, sewed two ring bearer pillows, trial-dipped pretzels, trekked to two different office supply stores (unsuccessfully, unfortunately) for various items, figured out the guest book, cut our cell phone bill in half, cleaned the house, and ran our usual weekend errands.

Together, Steve and I were a lean, mean, productivity machine.

But much like in college, when I really put my nose to the grindstone, I miraculously still have time for the fun stuff. Like our Sunday afternoon.

Gonna play!

Run, run, run!




Perfect Sunday



August 09, 2011

Thirty-six days and counting...

By the time this wedding comes around, we will have been planning it for almost a year and a half.

Last September, we celebrated our negative-first anniversary. How many people have the opportunity to celebrate a negative-first anniversary? I think it's kind of awesome.

There have been little pockets of panic or stress along the way, moments of I'm forgetting something major, aren't I? and I should have done that already! Ack! but it's been more or less easy-going. I attribute most of this to my mom, who has been absolutely amazing at juggling her life and my wedding.

Steve has also been a champ at getting things done. He put together invitations and came up with music and has tromped after me through Michael's and Bed, Bath & Beyond more times than I can count.

And now, just about fifteen months after Steve proposed, the wedding is right around the corner. We are inside the 40-days mark. We have four weekends before we leave for Chicago, one of which we'll be out of town for. Our To-Do list is down to mostly details, but there are a few big-ish items, like learn to dance. Also, learn French, which we have been sporadically working on (Steve is doing better at it than I am).

And there are all these little projects that I want/need to do. Like making table number displays, which is the one I'm most excited about. Or putting together the programs (we bought kits so there's a template, but I still want to give it my own touch). Place cards. Sewing a pair of ring bearer pillows. You know, little, unimportant things. *laugh*

Now I feel like every minute of my life has to be taken advantage of. Do you have fifteen minutes to write a blog post? DO YOU? I almost feel guilty spending my lunch hour in my car with the windows rolled down reading a book, which isn't even time I could spend doing wedding things if I'd wanted to! Silly.

But... thirty six days! I really can't wait. I guess I can handle thirty-six days of hard-core wedding stress when the end result, no matter what happens or doesn't happen, will be awesome.

And, just to make me smile, I have to share this picture that makes me laugh EVERY TIME I LOOK AT IT. Seriously! (You may have already seen it on Facebook, but it's just that good.)

Circa 1986

I have absolutely no idea what is causing Jessica to make that face. And look at her little hand! Whatever it is, it's not bothering me one little bit.


August 03, 2011


On the heels of my last post... I am either terrible at international travel, or awesome at it.

I have booked:
Day 1 - One hotel room in Paris. One hotel room in Nice.
Days 2-4 - One hotel room in Nice.
Days 5-9 - One hotel room in Paris. One apartment in Paris.

I pretty much have back-ups for my back-ups. I really need to cancel the extras before I end up having to pay for them! But I sent my security deposit for the apartment in Paris last night, and I am just going to trust that it will be fine, and that I am not being scammed for $438US by someone who may or may not be a sweet-seeming young French woman named Sabrina. *g*

I ended up changing my train ticket from leaving three hours after our plane lands in Paris to one leaving the next morning. (Thus, the two hotel rooms that night.) It probably would have been fine... But what if our plane is late leaving Chicago? What if it's late after our layover in Dublin? What if we get tied up in customs, or miss our RER/Metro transfer getting between the airport and train station? I would rather not WORRY about it.

This gives us an afternoon/evening to (fight jet lag and) explore the 12th Arrondissement before heading to Nice. We will also have the entire train trip in daylight, which is nice both for seeing the French countryside and for finding our hotel once we arrive in Nice. It cuts out half a day in Nice, but I'm okay with that. We're going to be pretty low-key during that part of our trip, anyway.

I am SO EXCITED. Can I be in France now?