Oh hey….I got married.

Remember how I was going to blog about the trials and tribulations of a wedding and then in April I suddenly stopped because I was choking on trials and drowning in tribulations?


Long story short, after much drama, our venue in Portland fell through. So we did what any sane couple would do four months before their wedding. We went to Vegas with 60 of our nearest and dearest and got married in a chapel that was affectionately called  “the Kill Bill chapel” by a friend.

IMG_3442Can’t disagree on that….

I was never able to picture myself walking down the isle at our original venue. I couldn’t imagine the day at all. Something wasn’t right. The second we decided on Vegas, things started finally feeling like us. I’m not going to lie, there was a shitload of crying, fighting, frustration and anger while planning everything out there. A Vegas wedding with that many people is no easy feat.

I got home and thought, “I should really blog about everything I learned”. So I sat down with a beer (which is the first in a long time due to my vodka only pre-wedding diet because vanity, duh) and took a xanax and tried to write about it. Maybe it’s the lack of my old friend Ambien, the best writing aide in the world. Or maybe I’m still riding high off of the amazing time we had. Or maybe it’s these god damn talon nails I have that making typing a total bitch. I don’t much feel like thinking or writing about weddings at all. It was a year of madness that ate up my entire life. I’m free to have other hobbies now. Free to crawl back into my normal, cozy hole where I am never the center of attention again.

I wouldn’t change a single thing. If I could do it over again it would only be because I want to have all that fun again.


Give Me Baby Elephant Money, Dammit

Now that I’ve been dress shopping 2,734 times, I am an expert on everything. Everything that is white, fluffy, uncomfortable, lacy and ill fitting. And now after the last two weeks I am swiftly becoming an expert at selling the first wedding dress you bought but decided you didn’t want on-line to desperate brides.

I will intersperse pictures of animals that are adorable because science shows that posts without pictures makes people die inside a little. But pictures of puppies warm your cold dead cockles.

(Did you know that cockles are a type of clams? So I’m warming your dead clams basically.)



Dude I love clams!

Step one:

List your unwanted, never worn $1,200 dress on a few websites devoted to selling used wedding dresses to bargain shopping brides. I threw mine onto Once Wed and Pre Owned Wedding Dresses. That’s my ad, that’s my dress. Buy it. It’s gorgeous. There’s not a thing wrong with it other than it’s way too classy of a dress for me.

Step two:

Sort through multiple e-mails a day asking redundant questions making it obvious that the sender didn’t read the god damn ad which gives every bit of information one needs. Sigh deeply, take more photos of your dress, explain the measurements and condition again. Explain that you never wore it. You never spilled champagne on it. You didn’t get sperm on it during a frisky limo ride. You didn’t barf on it and try to clean it with a Tide pen.

funny dogs-03

Step three:

Get this message in response:

Great! I am glad the dress is still available. I want to know if the dress has ever been worn and altered in the previous time? I will like to know if it’s in excellent condition. I understand that pictures does not do the justice of the beauty of the dress, but I’m afraid that I can not come to try the dress on as I am not local. So if there’s any way you could attach and send me a few pictures to have a closer view better and larger than the pictures posted on your listing will be a good idea. I look forward to hearing from you for further discussion. Talk to you soon. 

Turn to your fiancé, who is snort laughing at Reddit while next to you on the couch and ask him to read it and tell you if it sounds like a Nigerian Prince type scam. Believe him when he says no, that it sounds like someone who doesn’t speak english as their first language.


Step four:

Engage in lengthy e-mail sessions with “Janelle” the non-local desirer of your dress. Give her copious details, send more photos, discuss the specific sizing of the designers dresses. Go back and forth about it in over 15 e-mails.

Step five: 

Drunkenly check an incoming message while having a Cards Against Humanity get together party at your house. Read to the gathered persons that “Janelle’s” fiancé has agreed to buy the dress for her and that she will even pay for shipping. He will gladly pay me with a personal check.


Tell “Janelle” that a personal check is not acceptable, give her acceptable payment info, never hear from her again.


Step six:

Get four e-mails a day asking “what is the absolute least amount of money you’ll take for this dress?”.

Bang head against wall.


Step seven:

Earn good karma points for not selling the dress to a girl who lives in London because she was willing to pay shipping which would have been over a hundred dollars for some fucking reason. Tell her for the amount she could get the dress brand spankin’ new. Feel terrible and happy at the same time when she thanks you profusely for not duping her.

Step eight:

Consider taking $800 and being done with it.

Step nine:

Have intense fantasies about the way you’re going to style your new wedding dress. You can’t spend all your time thinking about that other pesky dress.


Step ten:

Irritate your fiancé by having three wedding dresses hanging in the living room. The one you’re trying to sell, the one you’re actually getting married in and your late grandmother’s wedding dress from the 1920’s that your mom gave to you after her memorial.

Step 11:

Write a lackluster blog post about trying to sell your wedding dress while your dog farts audibly beside you on the couch. Hope that someone will buy the damn dress so that you can use the money to hang out with elephants in Thailand on your honeymoon.





And just for good measure…To make sure your cockles are piping hot….


I’m Still Getting Married…

Here’s the nutshell version of the past few months:

-Put deposit on venue.

-Venue ignores all attempts to contact them for three months.

-Buy wedding dress.

-Get dress home, decide I hate it and feel like shit.

-Buy new wedding dress for less than half of what the first cost.

-Have all out fights over honeymoon planning and question if we could ever travel with each other ANYWHERE due to our vastly different desires and travel styles.

-Pitch Thailand as a honeymoon destination and get what was either an enthusiastic yes or a shut-the-fuck-up-FINE yes.

-Finally get in contact with venue, find out they upped their day rate to $33,000. But that we’re grandfathered in at the old rates.

-$33,000!!!! WHAT THE FUCK?!

-Plan epic vegan wedding feast with amazing chef at venue.

-Have random bouts of self hatred for caring so much about one day.

-Fiance decides he wants a giant American flag hanging behind us during the ceremony.

-Future mother-in-law suggests that our colors be red, white and blue because of said flag.

-Suppress urge to vomit at the thought of having “colors” let alone red, white and blue.

-Show mother-in-law bookmarked ideas for wedding decor/style and slowly shrink into a ball of nerves as she politely hates everything.

-Have weeping hour long talk with my father, achieving a level of cuntiness that I never thought possible.

-Have more bouts of self hatred for putting my father through that and for caring about a wedding in general.

-Feel like a raging narcissist.

-Wish we had eloped.

-Get asked 34 times a day by co-workers, clients and friends about how the wedding planning is going resulting in never wanting to blog about it.

-Look over at my dude,  breathe a sigh of relief that I still love that motherfucker and I’m so happy that I’m spending my life with him.

That pretty much sums up everything that has happened in the last few months. I have some hilarious dress shopping stories to share so I’ll blog a little more over the next few days.


What Started As A Joke Is Now A Front-Runner

“I know that we’re kinda drunk and we shouldn’t talk about this when we’re drunk….”

So starts most conversations mature adults have, right?

Last night during a marathon of watching Weeds and drinking cheap beer, I decided it was time to bring up the fact that we have no wedding plans shaping up. My intention was to impress upon my dear fiance that we should sit down soon and hammer out some details since venues for 2014 are fast booking up.

Instead, we ended up having one of the most calm, rational and productive wedding conversations that we’ve had yet. Who says you can’t have serious talks while buzzed on PBR? Take that, mom!

We managed to set a budget. That budget is five grand. Neither one of us is interested in spending more than that on one day. I’m sure everyone will tell us how it’s not possible but we’re willing to do whatever it takes in order to make the budget work.

We also talked a lot more  about the reality of a wedding in Iceland. And guess what? It’s looking like that might actually happen.

I’m 50/50 right now between a small wedding in Iceland and a big party in Portland. The fiance, I can tell, is leaning more towards Iceland. Our next move is to talk to our families and make sure that they would come because that’s tremendously important. From there, we work out the logistics and cost to see if it works within our budget.


Photo by Christopher Waddell

I can’t think of anything more awesome than getting married at the black church by the Hotel Budir. Or at least having photos taken in front of it since we’re not remotely religious.

We’ll see what happens over the next few weeks.


Today I talked to a lovely woman who is getting married tomorrow who regaled me with tales of her money saving wedding plans: Getting married on her family’s land, doing their own flowers, hiring a friend to do their photographs, having their guests camp on the property. All that, allllll that and how much did they spend?


Ten motherfucking thousand dollars. For a day. Where people camp and eat food cart food and drink beer.

Here’s a list of things I could buy for $10,000:

1. Some really, really nice breast implants.

2. Half of an Alpaca. Because a whole alpaca costs $20,000. According to my friend, Colleen, I should buy the front half because  “the back half, all you get is shit.”.

alpaca head

Do yourself a favor and google image search alpacas. It will be the best five minutes of your day.

3. I could rent the entire Hotel Budir in Iceland and have my wedding there plus a honeymoon in Europe.

4. Carrot Top. That’s speculation but I’m pretty sure I could.

5. A yard full of fainting goats. Also speculation but again, I’m reasonably sure this could happen with ten grand.

6.rocking chair bed.



7.micro cabin. Because we can’t afford to buy a real house



8. This Land Rover pick-up. Because I would look amazing in it.



9. Diamond studded jeans for my fiance.



10. Did I mention really nice breast implants? Those would last at least ten years. Though if a marriage lasts forever then I suppose the wedding is a better thing to spend the money on. But the fiance would see the boobs every day. He’s not going to look at wedding photos every day. Boobs win.



Now I’m Getting Ridiculous…

My dreams of an Icelandic pony (MINIATURE HORSE, Arin!!) wedding have been shot in the face. The fiance’s mother quickly nipped that in the bud (fuck, I hate that phrase) by telling me it was too far for her 83 year old mother to travel. Suspicious, since her mother is flying to Costa Rica soon. Granted, I’d haul my terrified-of-flying ass on a plane to a sunny beach over a glacier covered in horses anyday…but still. 

The future father in law still thinks it’s a swell idea and is encouraging us to do what we want. So maybe the pony has only been shot in the leg and not in the face. We could amputate below the knee and still make that pony run. And god dammit, I know they’re horses and not ponies but PONY is a fun word to write. 

I’m not even on drugs currently and this is how my brain works. I am a mo’ fucking winner. 


How’s my hair?

In lieu of a super metal wedding at a black chapel in Iceland, I’ve come up with a more ridiculous place to exchange vows. 


Welcome to Suoi Tien Cultural Theme Park in Vietnam. It’s the first Buddhist themed waterslide park ever. Shockingly…

Not just a waterpark though, since it’s a cultural theme park there’s also temples, rides and oddly, a place where you can feel crocodiles hunks of meat from fishing poles…


I found this guy’s tale of taking his family there very entertaining. So much napping! I love napping! I also love dodgy amusement park rides. This place is perfect!


Oooooh! Creepy elephant boats in very questionable water! I’m in love with everything about this place. 

I read somewhere that there’s also an aerial bike tour over the crocodile lagoon which sounds totally safe and not at all terrifying. It ties in the fiance’s love of bicycles! Perfect! 

Perhaps if I keep coming up with ideas like this, both families will gladly fly to Iceland instead. 


Cake Cutters and Mom Dresses

Fresh off a plane that delivered us from the sun drenched burrito capital of the world, San Diego, I sent my dear fiance off to bed and promptly took a more powerful ambien then I have taken in a while. What better time than now to delve into some deep internet mining. Deep into the looming, cavernous mountain of wedding blogs! What treasures can we drag forth from there? What beauty shall I claim as my own? What clever save the date card can I spy and immediately shout at my computer screen, “THAT IS SO MEEEEEEEE!!!!”

Yes, ambien makes me write this way but the wedding bullshit only adds to the crazy. Because really, I ACTUALLY AM supposed to be finding things that speak to me.

My future mother-in-law held up a cake cutter to me as we were picking up a cake for her husband’s retirement party, “See how pretty this is with the beads?” She turning it so that I could admire the bead work and ribbons on the handle. “We could do something like this for you guys but make it unique to you.”

Thought process (ambien style):

-I need a cake cutter?

-I need a special, decorated cake cutter?

-I need to decorate a cake cutter so that it captures the unique theme/personality of our wedding?

-A cake cutter handle is what I should be thinking about right now?

She also told me earlier in the day that traditionally the bride’s mother picks out her dress for the wedding first and then the groom’s mother can pick her dress based off of that. “So there’s no stepping on toes, colors clashing or wildly different styles. ”

Wha…huh? Really? I just kind of figured we’re the type of families who don’t give fucks about such things. I assumed there would be things we’d be skipping. Such as but not limited to:

-Assigned seating


-The chicken dance

-the garter toss or even the bouquet for that matter unless bitches be into it.

-Bridal showers/ engagement parties

-four course meals

That’s all I can think of for now….

Was there anything you really wished you WOULD HAVE done at your wedding or something that will be a non negotiable for you when you do marry?

I thought we were past a lot of the weird rules but they keep popping up. There are no rights and wrongs in weddings. But there’s a whole lot of bonkers shit to think about.

Wedding Game Plan #234

When you decide to get hitched, no one will ask you anything that doesn’t pertain to your imminent hitching until you get your damn self hitched. You can learn to breathe fire while tight rope walking and people will still be like, “Uh huh, girl, that’s cool, so are you having bridesmaids?”

In my twenties I was an attention whore to the nth degree. I did a lot of things that I wouldn’t in a million years do now. We don’t even need to discuss that shit. Suffice to say, I was rather self obsessed (as we tend to be at 22) and took myself very seriously. Nowadays, it’s hard for me to take anything very seriously. Especially myself. Therefore, talking endlessly about myself and this ONE DAY that I’m planning A FUCKING YEAR FROM NOW is uncomfortable. I’ve never felt more narcissistic than I have this last month while discussing our upcoming nuptials.

Every time we see friends, co-workers or I see clients at work everyone asks. And we have nothing to tell them. No planning has been done. We have no more idea now than we did two months ago and I’m pretty okay with that.

My newest fantasy is to say fuck it all and get married on a glacier in Iceland.

Did you know how effin’ cheap it is to fly to Iceland and use it as a stopover to get to Europe? IcelandAir is trying to bump up tourism by encouraging people to fly there before hopping over to Europe. You can book a ticket to multiple cities from their website. A trip from Seattle to Iceland to Amsterdamn and back home costs only $980! So cheap!!! Add to that I’ve been wanting to go to Iceland as long as I can remember and it seems a perfect way to combine wedding and honeymoon plans.




But come on!!! How can you not love that?? Oh and I did I mention the abundance of ponies?

Iceland - Lon Valley: Eastfjord Ponies

Emo ponies!

I like polls. They entertain me.