"i" versus "I" between me and Famous

It's come to my attention that I tend to really get into my blog when my husband is out of town. And then 3 things happen... I drink wine, smoke cigs, and start thinking... which then leads me to believe that I have intelligent things to say that everyone wants to hear. (and it takes me 3 times as long to write because I usually use "i" instead of "I" and I delete and reverse because if I become a famous blogger, I don't want to be criticized for lack of grammar and such... exhausting)

The purpose of tonights blog has nothing to do with recipes or baby things or DIY crafts that are "so what I'll do this weekend" like all the other blogs are about that have the thousands of followers (which I'm not jealous about at all, but it would really make me feel so much better about myself if I did, but I love My Seven, so seriously, I don't care, I mean, whatever).

On a side note, does anyone hate smocking on little boys as much as I do??! dear God! give them a chance at being straight! put a small man child in smocking and you might as well give him a plush penis toy too! girls fine.. call me stereotypical, but come on. (note to YOU... PacSun for my kids when I get pregnant) If future baby Palmer is a girl, bring on the watermelon/4th of July flag/cupcake smock dress... if I have a boy, don't even think about it. (might as well live in Germany in the 20's and give him knee high white socks,white patent leather shoes, and a jumper...that is the only way I would accept smocking...and your time has passed. let it go...)

soo... what were we talking about? who knows... I could look back but that would ruin the intriguing convo we are having now.

well, look at me... writing and not paying attention to my new puppies... so my wear-resistant outdoor rug is now half unraveled because mommy wasn't paying attention and "wear-resistant" doesn't refer to puppies. dammit. they did a damn good job of unraveling it and now I could scrutinize it and make my own mat. but that would be a new DIY post...

In Memoriam... Reposted, - Ish...

so everyone always does these "guest posts", and, being the "experienced blogger" I am, I just don't have a clue what they are talking about... like, your blog is sooo important, but you'll be out of town so you have to have someone make up for your lost days. (well, these people do have thousands of followers, and I have 7, but I still think it's silly... I'm following your blog, not a strangers...

so, in honor of that, I'm posting a guest blog. from myself. from circa 2008 or something. I got a lot of positive feedback and thought, "what the hell, let's repost!"

so here is a little diddy of something I wrote when my trusty manual shift, candy apple red, 1997 eclipse broke down and officiallly died. at least she knew I couldn't handle it and she waited until the one time my dad decided to take it in for an oil change and she flat out quit on the feeder road of the 114w, in Southlake... please, love and remember her as I did..

well, shoot. the damn thing won't "copy" and "paste". This is why I only have 7 followers... b/c i can't do anything techni-logically (yes, two words) right.

ok, now i've set the mood and I hate to delete words I've already written soo... hold and you'll get the car's obit soon. :) love you, My Seven.

Hello?! Is She Here?!

Things I've Learned In the Last Month Since I Haven't Blogged:

Im the worst blogger ever... apparently, to keep a following, you must keep blogging. I still love and appreciate my 7 followers. thank you for your support.

If your new puppy has something in his mouth, don't smell it. Because he'll jump on you at the exact time you are smelling and you'll eat it. And only THEN will you realize he eats poop. And now you eat it too. Second hand poop, nonetheless.

Definitely get a puppy before a baby. I've learned mountains about my new husbands ability to take care of things... aka he doesn't, and it's all up to you until you create a "routine" (thank you little sister Brooke) and then he'll catch on. (God willing...)

Thinking about working out does not make you lose weight you gained since your wedding. No matter how hard you try... weight does not "fall off" and whoever came up with that term can suck it.

Boobs do get you free drinks. (duh, i just wanted to say boobs)

If you have a best friend in another time zone, it's perfect if she doesn't work, because she can talk whenever you can. If said friend gets a job, communication fails and then it's very inconvenient because now you have to work around both schedules.

I am jealous of my single friends... only b/c a random weekend away comes up and I can't jump on the bandwagon b/c i have to "check" with my husband. I hated that when I was single with married friends. But I get it now... I don't like it, but I get it.

Sex can be "wham bam" or "sexy... yeah" and it's still super great either way. (mom, don't tell dad I said that... if he asks, I've never done it and my future babies are related to Jesus b/c I've "never seen a penis"... im serious.)

People who weigh less than 120 lbs really piss me off. Not b/c I'm J, but b/c they probably think I'm J and im more grossed out than anything.

ok guys, I think I'm back. between moving, puppies, actually making it one year married without missing my sister and her shoe sharing too much, I think I can fit yall back into my schedule.

xoxo Casey :)

My New Babies

After less than a year of marriage, Steven and I are going to be parents!!! Now, stop assuming I'm pregnant or we are having a man child. Because we're not... we're having puppies! That's right, two puppies! And as fate has it, they are being dropped off at our new house... the same day our furniture is being dropped off at our house. Yes, we are moving into a new house too! And it's all happening this Saturday. 4 days. Have we packed? no. Have we bought puppy supplies? yes.

Augusta Georgia Palmer

Arnold Palmer

I feel the need to overwhelm the internet and my friends, with pictures of my babies. So here are my babies, Arnold and Augusta Georgia, and the necessities we have purchased.

My life is about to change in a major way.

You know it's a bad day when...

The stretchy pants you're wearing are a little too snug so you go put on your husbands boxers which are a much better fit.

As of now, I am officially Ana*.

*Ana = Anorexic (thanks to CL for teaching me lingo such as this... also included is Appy = Appetizer which my husband now uses frequently. that's kind of weird)

Funny that immediately after becoming anorexic, I mention Appys... I think I'll only be Ana until breakfast tomorrow, but it's a good start, right?

Moving Day?! We Totally Forgot

Have you ever moved? I've moved plenty of times... But this time is different. I might be a little over the top excited, but you need to understand something. We are currently living on the 3rd floor of an apartment, no elevator. read: no elevator. I have received many blood blisters on my arms from carrying the plastic bagged groceries all in one trip because I refuse to make multiple trips. I'll leave eggs in the car before I make a second trip. Call me lazy, but I prefer to think of myself as efficient. (and maybe a little lazy). I still have 10 yards of fabric in my front seat because I really can't be bothered to take it upstairs, just to bring it back down again for my reupholstering! Obviously!

So here we are. We are moving. Next Saturday. It's Thursday night. We have plenty of boxes to move, but the one problem is, they are empty. I keep thinking that I'll wake up in the morning and it'll be done. (I believed a little too much of Bewitched and I Dream of Jeanie. Both are still on TV, and yes, I still try to twitch my nose and wiggle my belly. Let's just say you don't want to be around when I'm doing that...not attractive).

So what do I do? Do I actually have to pack the stuff myself? You can't blame me for this mentality. When I moved to LA... bought all new stuff... moved back home, I sold it all. When I moved to the apartment with Steven, my parents (SOO THANKFUL) moved me in while I was on my honeymoon. So technically, I've really never moved if you think about it. So how am I supposed to know what to do?

I'll tell you what I'll do. Tomorrow, I'll take the first step. I'll go buy some tape. And some boxed wine. That'll get me going.

My Mustache, and I'm No Tranny

As ladies, we all have one.

That little round magnifying mirror, back lit by an adjustable light so we can obsess and dissect all of those flaws and imperfections that shouldn't be there, but tend to only be seen in this mirror of ours. "Picking" as my little sister Lisa calls it. But, have you ever looked into that mirror and... God forbid... said to yourself,

"SH*T! I have a mustache!!!!"

well, this recently happened to me (about 10 years ago) and I want to share with you the secret that my mother introduced me to. No bleaching, no waxing... just a little healthy, made for your face, razor.

Christi Harris.

Works like a charm.

(they also work for those little whiskers that pop up, unwanted and 3" long, on you chin... I don't have those, I've just heard)

Language of Mothers

The picture you see below is what

mothers call a Pack 'n Play, as I have recently learned.

The picture you now see below is what I THOUGHT was a Pack 'n Play.

(I mean, he's all packed up and he looks ready to play soooo....)

You can see there is a major difference in the actuality of the piece as opposed to what my mind imagined it to be. I bring this up because The Language of Baby is something that is becoming more prominent in my life whether I am prepared for it or not. My friends and my sister are all mothers now so with that comes the terms "boppy", "binky", "lovey", "dougie", and many more. (no offense, but I think a vocally impaired individual must have been the first mother if these are the terms we are so prevalently using today)

How am I supposed to have conversations about your child when you use words I don't know? If my sister keeps using words I can't understand, I'm going to start using words she can't understand, such as: quiet, alone time, restful, martini, loud sex whenever and wherever (well, that's a phrase, but you get it), long hair, dinner reservations after 8pm, and so on...

Why don't we just call it a pacifier, a blanket, or a portable crib, as these things so obviously are? I'll tell you why... it's so the mothers of the world can have this secret little club with other mothers and they can laugh at the misfortune of us breeders, who haven't bred yet. Well, jokes on you, ladies... because I can still close down the bar, watch a lifetime movie marathon all weekend with no interruptions, and sleep until whenever I feel like it. Don't get me wrong, I'll be joining your little club one day (who wouldn't want me to reproduce?!) so I'll be right smack in the middle of it, but until then, be gentle and patient with us non-moms. I only act annoyed because I'm not in this club and I love to be in clubs. (I also don't wait in line or pay to get into places)

So, again, be mindful with your high pitched squeals of Baby Language. And yes, because I know you are wondering, I am available for baby sitting contrary to what you may believe. Although I tend to use more grown up words with the children, because honestly, they really have no idea what we are saying. And thank God for that.

The Favorite Child Syndrome

(actual family photo... we call it "smile with your eyes"... my mom calls it "the professional photo you couldn't follow directions for")

I love my mom. We are so blessed to have a family that not only just gets along with one another, but we really, actually, enjoy being with each other. My sisters are closer to me than any friend of mine and my parents are, (don't let their heads blow up) but they are actually cool. Case in point, I took my mom to the Country Club tonight and she definitely can hang. (she actually raised me how to hang at the club, thanks to Pink Lemonade Manners Class and private manners classes from Madame Butterfly. I know that CL, Sal, and B are as ever thankful as myself.) My mom says that thanks to her, we could eat a dinner at the white house and fit right in. ( I don't know about you, but I'd rather eat dinner at G Dub's Ranch than at the white house with that Obama). anywho....

So we were chatting about something or another and my mom says, well, your father and I never had favorites, did we? hmmm... I blurted out my middle sisters name and immediately regretted it. She looked genuinely confused and perplexed. Which leads me to believe, that maybe, just maybe, she didn't have a favorite.(well, conciously she didn't) No hurt feelings, no negative feelings on my part, but lets be honest... We all have people we introduce, as follows, which shows the importance of their life to yours:
1) This is ____, my best friend.
2) This is my good friend, ____.
3) This is my friend, ___.
4) This is _____, have you met her?
5) This is ____. We work together.
or the infamous,
6) You introduce the date you came with b/c, for the life of you, you cannot remember the person you are introducing them to, even though they've asked you about your wedding, your sisters, your parents, and how excited you are about moving into your new house. I still have no idea who you are.
or my favorite
7) Hi. Have you met my sister, Lisa? She's single and loves to make out. (heheheh Lolita HATES when I do that, but it's just so funny, I can't help it!)

This gets me thinking, you obviously get along with some people better than others. So why wouldn't parents have the same dilemna? My mom says that she loves that we are all so different and we all have amazing relationships. (very good parent answer) All true things. I explained to her that I think Brooke is more of... what is that word??? oh yeah, a grown up adult. My mom is a grown up adult so why wouldn't they get along perfectly? People tend to think I'm still 24- 25 (which I adore) and my youngest sister pointed out, "Yeah, that's because you act like it Casey." Thanks, Lis, Thanks.

I digress. I don't have kids, but I will someday. How do you not have a favorite? I don't want to, but isn't it inevitable? Maybe it's just "today this one's being a sh*t so obviously I am preferring the other right now".? Or "thank goodness we raised one "right" that got off the payroll before 30. (I barely missed the cut-off by a week... what was I THINKING scheduling my wedding a week after my 30th birthday!?) what happened to self sufficiency?". Or it could be the old "This one gave me a grandchild first. When will the others catch up?" :) I kid, I kid (kind of).

Anyways, there are those crazies who have bred crazies and of course they have favorites. But I truly believe my parents love all three of us girls the same. At times, I drive my mom so crazy so she has to talk to the others about it and vice versa. But when it comes down to it, let's just say they are lucky to have any of us at all, and we couldn't have been given better parents ourselves. God is Good.

PS: MOM - IM TAKING OFF FRIDAY TO FINISH MY DAMN THANK YOU NOTES. I APPRECIATE YOUR ANNOYING PERSISTANCE. :)

Etiquette of the Public Throne

I'm going to talk about public bathroom courtesy, and the lack thereof, in my office building. This might be awkward, but I feel strongly that these need to be addressed.

1) There are 15 stalls in the bathroom. I'm the only one in there and you walk in. Don't go in the stall next to me. There are 12 other available seats that are not my neighbor. Go in those. Are you worried you might run out of TP and you think I'm going to hand some to you under the stall?! I'm not.
2) The stall is not a place for you to hold your cell phone conversations. And yes,I will keep flushing my toilet until you shut your mouth or leave. Nobody likes to hear your conversations about how your child is a menace, while they are trying to do their business.
3) Flush the toilet. Do I really need to say this?
4) Wash your hands! Even if you don't normally, just pretend to while I'm standing there washing mine. I know who you are and you are now The Person Who Doesn't Wash Her Hands.
5) This is a public bathroom... if I'm at the mirror, put your tweezers away and stop plucking your cheek hair. (yes, there was a cheek hair situation)
6) I know it's a bathroom, but if you have to do #2, don't if I'm in there. It makes me very uncomfortable and then I end up trying to escape quickly and somehow I end up at the counter with you. AWKWARD. (although my friend CL introduced me to a book called Everybody Poops, I don't need to hear you doing it)
7) I don't know you, I've never seen you before, and now is not the time to start a conversation with me, as we walk into the bathroom together. And yes, it's very awkward that you are chatting with me whilst in the stall next to me. No one needs to hear my voice while I'm in a public bathroom. And I don't want to hear yours.
8) If you see someone walking out of the bathroom with toilet paper stuck to their foot, don't tell them. It's kind of funny.
9) If you are going to text or play games on your phone while in the stall, put the phone on silent. I don't want to know that you are playing angry birds... that lets me know you are going to be in there for awhile and I don't need to know that.
10) If the lock on the door isn't working, don't use that stall. Because then I'll walk in on you, and that's the worst of all.

Sexy Fabric Turns Me On

Does furniture turn you on? Does an exotic textile exorbitantly priced, excite you inappropriately? Have you found yourself touching the hand of a fabric in intimate ways? My name is Casey, and I think furniture/fabric is orgasmic too. Seriously, I get so excited about being in a warehouse full of bolts of fabric that I can't help but to imagine the furniture or drapery that these delicious pieces of fabric were made for. Creating a story with textures of vibrant colors, graceful curves of wood on the leg of a furniture, or molded plastic made for beauty and comfort of a chair are some of the things I love most!

With that said, I am going to show you the beginnings of my project! It started with the move... I immediately decided purple and black would tell the story of my fancy dining room. I have my mimi's dining furniture so it's vintage, but has gotten old. Vintage and old are completely different terms, just so you know. Vintage means something is of "lasting interest and importance." Old refers to "decrepit or senile". So as different as these meanings are, they really can compliment and describe something in such exactness that the visualization process becomes a little easier... let me help you a little, if not confuse you more.

The thing with "old" furniture is that you have to see the potential. There is sooo much potential. People put old things on the side of the road, to die the death of furniture, really believing it's "decrepit" and useless. And it can be...but, in reality, all this special piece needs is a loving home and someone with a little creativity... or a someone who has a friend with a little creativity. Example: I am going to take my mimi's chairs, table, and china cabinet that, at one point in time, was "antique white". Now, I consider the color a tinkle yellow, if you will. My sister's dog Stoli could do a little diddy next to the table and chairs, and you'd probably just think the paint was melting off.(that's a professional design color, tinkle yellow, fyi.) The thing is, the furniture looks old, but it's really vintage. I'll show you once I'm done. Up top I've posted the basic palette and design inspiration for my new dining room. I've painted the chairs a shiny, shiny lacquered black and am upholstering the purple crocodile skin on it... talk about
SEX-Y furniture. I'll definitely show you when I'm done. I have also decided, to save money, I will also be upholstering the seats myself. (That should be a disaster in it's own.)

In conclusion, I just purchased 10 yards of this sexy, sexy purple croc fabric and all I want to do is wrap it around my naked body and roll down a sloping hill in a lush green meadow painted with the sun's rays, while little dancing gnomes cheer me on... Don't judge me... you know you want to roll around with me, too.

From Teacher to Designer

I'm thinking that all of that money that my parents spent on "testing for my future" really paid off. I was starting out as a freshman in college as a future teacher, when, in actuality, I was going for my M R S Degree. (husband hunting at my small baptist college is the number one major of young sorority girls) My parents must have known me better than I thought because half way through my first semester, my parents had me do all of the expensive and fancy testing just to see what I should be when I grew up! I thought it was ridiculous! How is some multiple choice test and visual awareness testing over 3 days going to determine my future?! well, it did. Sometimes parents are always right.

My top three "futures" included Photography, Fashion Design, and Interior Design. I said no to Photography because, in all honesty, I like being in front of the camera and not behind it. I said no to Fashion because I assumed I would have to sew and one time my grammy had me sew a teddy bear so I could learn the basics, and let's just say it was the saddest hot pink bear you'd ever seen.

So that left Interior Design. I knew nothing of that. I had no idea what it was. I figured, what the heck?! It sounded cool enough. I met with a high end architect that my dad knows and his first question was "Are you more interested in Commercial Design or Residential Design?" My response was "I don't mean to sound stupid, but I honestly don't know what those words mean." (looking back, I'm so embarrassed).

And so began my journey through design. I give you this background because I will be talking a lot about what I'll be doing this summer. Steven and I are moving into a house (YAY!!!) and I LOVE LOVE LOVE design. Especially when I get to be the boss and pick out things because I really have great taste. :) Vintage Modern is my "thang". Furniture design, paint coordination, color theme, color theory, etc... I love it all and mostly I love that people tell me how amazing I am just by picking out a certain palette of textiles. (duh, i know, but I still like to hear it!)

And so the journey of designing House of Palmer begins. I welcome you along so that, you too, may benefit from my ideas and creativity, and I might benefit from your praise of my awesomeness.

New Blog Goals

ok, ok, Im really trying with this blog thing. I think I have this expectation that unless it's a really good story, I can't share. Not the case. Im going to really try and just write when I can because, I know, you are just dying to know what's going on in my crazy fun (aka boring married) life. Its true. Once you are married, people don't really care about what you are doing... b/c who gives an F about what I made for dinner, or what sweet thing my husband said or what couples plans we have this weekend. I'll tell you who... no one. Except me. and I love it!!!! I love cooking now and I love my new kebob sticks (slanted not, round so the food falls off) and I love the hairy man I spend the night with every night.

I know, I know... I used to love the thrill of "will that guy buy me a drink" or "too bad that hot guy is such a bad kisser" or "oh my gosh, she is NOT going home with him!" kind of things. Past Casey would call New Casey "super boring, lifeless, boring, not fun to hang with, and more boring". Well, too bad Past Casey. New Casey is the boss of this life and she loves it! (ps, i hate when people use 3rd person on themselves, but it was a little necessary). So, my new goal (another PS, im still smoke free with a few cheats, but its the entire goal that counts) is that im going to be consistant in my writing whether it's talking about my new house im moving into, my new puppies that I CANNOT WAIT to get (2 yorkies, Arnold and Augusta, i have collars and accessories picked out) or what new awesome dish I found at Bed Bath and Beyond (the Butter Buddy!!!).

So hopefully there will be a little bit of something for all 2 of my current followers. Another goal... build up my followers b/c it makes me believe im interesting and important...(although i've read some blogs just to make fun of... you know what im talking about Carol, Sally, Kate, and Liz) and I hope not to be one of those :)

And She's Back...

Sooo... last blog post was from February of 2010... it's now end of June 2011... I'd actually forgotten about my blog and then my sister mentioned it to me and here I am again. Lucky You. Recap of the last year, and then some:
Im now married (yay!)
My sister had a baby! (Tripp is perfect)
I've turned 30 (uneventful)
I've been rearended twice (do i have target on my bumper?!)
My other sister found a man i actually love (it's about time)
and.... as of 2 days ago... i've quit smoking. ( tears )

So much can happen in just one year and seriously, so much has.

And here we go again. I have so many stories, so much tell and lets be honest, facebook putting character limits on my posts, just isn't cutting it.

Between the prostitute showing me her black boobs while i was writing my matron of honor speech and the delicious lettuce wraps i convinced my husband i just "made up on a whim",(his response was "these are so good, you'll definitely be getting some sex tonight"), i've decided to reopen my blog to shine a little light into this world. Because, let's be honest, we all need a little Casey to make our lives a little less serious.

Good Will Hunting, The Bride's Way

As is my life now, anything bridal I do can be completely random or unexpected, just as easy as it might be planned. I might be strolling down the street, on my way to Campisi's, and just happen to fall into a bridal store on the way. (Steven didn't know where I'd gone, but he found me soon enough gazing at tubed beading and Swarovski crystals... wedding to me is like pizza to him. it's just the best)

So needless to say, when my mom and I were driving down the 114 and saw a huge sign that said BRIDAL BOUTIQUE, I mean, how could we not stop in?! First Flag: it was in a strip mall. But the thing with being a happy bride is that I don't tend to see these things immediately. All I saw was a store filled with white... and happy people inside... and it's like the light to heaven... you just can't say no! So on this rainy, dreary day in Texas, we found an activity that will not only procrastinate my gym workout but we found an activity that will have multiple people telling me how beautiful I am while I excude happiness and love on a pedestal. (sigh)

We walk in and no appointment was necessary!!! (flag #2) A nice girl, we shall call her Amber, could have toned down the makeup and worn more of a figure flattering suit, but she was so sweet. She handed us a handful of orange clippy things and directed us to the area that would fit my rapidly shrinking "back side", if you will. (well, i told her it was rapidly shrinking, we will see) (we shall censor offensive words for my mother) :) The cloud I have been floating on seems to start to become gray and fill with some light showers, although I haven't sensed this yet... This was the beginning of what we now call The Good Will for Wedding Dresses.

I search and I search, and I search... do I just have unreasonable taste or is there really NOTHING here I like??? Searching for something I'd actually put on my body was like looking for a virgin at the Theta house! :) (kidding!) It was very difficult, but not impossible... I found 3 dresses that I would try, but only because my mother whispered in my ear "we cannot leave without trying on somethin.... come on Casey, it's not like you have to get one!" Ok, this mini pep talk led me in the direction of, Why Not? Let's OWN this polyester!!! (i will refer to said polyester later)

Amber takes the dresses to the back as my mother and I follow her... let me set it up for you... We are led to the back, visually directed by the crimson red floor runner, flanked by the 70's color gold surrounding carpet with a lovely split pea green wall and matching green accented flowers sporadically strewn about the floor. Oh. My. Gosh. This. Is. Bad. The room is smaller than my closet and they have actual mirrors randomly placed about the room that I swear they purchased on craigs list. ( I mean for goodness sake! they were on rollers!)

Amber ushers us to our room and says, "holler at me if you need anything". Well, the thing with the room is, there are no mirrors in the room and only me and mountain of white fabric can fit into this room! So here I am, half naked, outside of my room, with my mother literally under the Belle from Beauty and the Beast Dress (you know... the yellow one? yeah, i tried it on in white) just dying of embarrassment... and no, not embarrassment because i'm naked with strangers, but embarrassment because I am in this store. It was bad. We finally get the dress on, and i'm REALLY trying to give some positive words for Amber. "i really feel like a fairy tale princess, but it's just not the dress.." Amber says "Oh! don't worry! i know exactly what it needs!" What? what does it need? To be put into the secret incinerator in the back?! She comes back with some sort of hoop like skirt to "floof" up the skirt. ok, so... we are going for cake topper now... what the heck! bring it on!

Amber says, "well, we should've put it on first but don't worry, i have an idea". This is wear I start to lose it... my eyes teared up because sweet, clueless Amber, who REALLY wants me to buy this $150 dress, drags a FOLDING CHAIR over and tells me to stand on it! I know every single one of you reading this have tried to stand on a folding chair... now, try to imagine wearing the Belle dress with awkward dyeable shoes and toe hose and then standing on a folding chair. I swear, I am not kidding... I actually get on the chair, looking at mother with fear and terror while my new "friend" Amber gets up under my dress and then asks me to stand on one leg so she can get the floofy thing on!!! i start tearing up... i can't do this. But i must stay strong for Amber... (please remember that i am not the most, how do we say this, 'graceful' of them all... I frequently run into door frames, so balancing on one foot, wearing a wedding dress with a strange girl under my dress all on top of a freaking FOLDING CHAIR is just really not ideal...)

PHEW!!! we did it!!! i didn't die! So now we head over to the one pedestal in the store that doesn't even have a 3 way mirror. Wait, there is a line to the pedestal.. WHAT?! I have to keep this dress on longer!? OH! and look at that! Another girl has THE SAME DRESS ON AS ME! um, akward! I finally make my way to the top of the pedestal, take a look, and start crying... 2 other moms start clapping and say to each other.."oh! that must be The One!!!" I am in dismay... have they SEEN the dress on me?! its not good...not good at all... done and done... i head back to my hole of a room, drag my mother in there and just cry a little... I understand how this sounds but you don't understand. It was horrific. I can't even believe i put this fabric on my body. I could make a better dress out of dried up baby vomit... we check the label and sure enough, the dress is 100% Polyester. That's it. I'm out of here.

We tell Amber that I am not ready to purchase "my dress" and I will have to come back with my sister. (if anything, it would be really fun to go drink some champagne, wine and/or vodka and head back to the store... that would be worth it). Amber says "OH! you have a sister? Let me show you, before you leave, our 2 for 1 section!"

ok. I can feel that now you don't believe me. I swear on all the MAC eye make up I own, this is true... My mom and I can't leave without seeing this! She takes us to the back of the back and the deal is, Buy One Dress, The 2nd Is Only a Penny!!! oh sweet wedding god, what is this!? the dress aisles are so tight, I kid you not, I lost my mother. I could hear her, but I couldn't find her. It was like the Polyester just gobbled her up! Swooshing through the white, extremely flammable, fabric, I feel my moms foot and I make my way to her. I grab her arm, look her straight in the eye, and say "Mom. Out. Now."

Those were the last words we spoke that day...Until we discovered a fancy cake store that just happened to have a cancellation for a tasting... We looked at each other, hugged, and I just knew that we were back in the game.

My First Wedding Crash

I believe that the band totally makes or breaks a party. You can spend tons of money, have the coolest people there, but if your band sucks, nobody is ever going to trust anything you say again. You have officially branded yourself as Person With Really Bad Taste.

Once I had semi-surfaced back on Earth from being in the clouded haze of staring into my shiny diamond ring at all times, I realized that the first crucial step in planning my wedding was choosing The Band. Forget the church or the reception venue, I needed to make sure a fantastic band was available for my celebratory party. (and if you did not understand from my previous blog, I am not considering a DJ... they are so hit or miss... mainly miss. just my opinion, but obviously the right one.)

So began my search. I have develped an attitude that amongst the "things Casey absolutely has to have" list, are things I absolutely have to have and the Wedding God has been on my side so far, so this was going to be a piece of Princess Flavored Wedding Cake. So I worked with Absolute Entertainment (best of the best for this stuff) and they helped me narrow my search down to 3 bands. I listened to the demos, subconciously rated them from 1 to 3 and let My People know that I needed to know when and where they were playing so I could check them out in person. (from here on out, i will refer to My People as anyone on my team that gets things done for me. They are held in the highest respect.)

Band #1: This band was my 3rd choice of the three so I went into this with and open mind, but very unattached. My fiance and I went to a great dinner with our friends Kevin and Megan. We invited the 2 of them to come Wedding Crashing with us. We figure, no big deal, we are just going to sneak into the reception, have some wine, maybe some vodka, and judge the band that was first on our list.... Oh, no, no... the reception we happened to crash, not only was the only Jewish wedding I've ever seen in Texas (we witnessed a Money Dance) but there were only 50 people in attendance at this wedding. Needless to say, when we walked in, everybody knew. The band was alright, but I didn't have that "have to have them" feeling that I am so comfortable with. We left very quickly but not without a party favor that consisted of a travel toothbrush. (note: something NOT to have my wedding)

Band #2: From the demos, this band is The Band. I loved them right off. So the next event that we are headed to, I am a little attached but I try to again have an open mind. Steven and I think we have got this crashing down. No more awkward walk ins so we decide to go by ourselves. We dress up and we both look good. Cocktail Style, nobody would know we weren't invited. We were the ultimate Couple at the Wedding. Au Contraire... We head into the hotel where this "private party" was taking place. We note from the noise, that the reception must be going on upstairs, although we don't see any signs that say "Blah/Blah Wedding --->". No big deal, we are feeling good. This is our second wedding to crash so we are going to breeze on in...

We make it upstairs and are directed toward a very large room where the doors are closed. We open the doors... we hear the band, they sound great... there is a white sort of dome-like tunnel that we must pass through to get to the main area... band still sounds amazing, we are ready... then we enter the ballroom...

Not only were were the only white people in this room, but we were the only people not dressed in a superhero outfit. I kid you not... my first look around the room and I see Wonder Woman, The Rock Guy from Fantastic 4, Spider Man, Super Man and tons of 'things' that only the Marvel Comic Fans know about. We had walked straight up into a Comic Book Convention. Well, it's not like we could turn around, this band was The Band. So Steven and I boldly walk to an empty table and take a seat... It was soo much to take in.

We were laughing and dancing at the table because that is what this band inspired inside of us... it didn't matter that we were the White Wedding Couple amongst all of the Super Heros, we were there for the band and in this journey discovered that there really are, in fact, people who think they are super heros. Good for them. I will also never again assume that "private party" means "wedding"... there are so many things it could mean... kind of like when a co-worker calls some celebrity "hot" and you take a look at Nick Nulty like you never have before, still think the worst and yet you love that co-worker for having a unique type, although you will never assume that when they say 'hot' that it's a good thing. Like when she told me I looked pretty the next day... I immediately went into the bathroom to see what was wrong with me because someone who thinks Nick Nulty is hot obviously has horrible taste. I digress...

A day later, I emailed My People and told them to book My Band, Done and Done!!! I received a disturging response email saying they were already in a contract and the other party had 2 days to get a deposit down. If they did not, then the band was mine. This is how I know that Wedding God is blessing my marriage... I prayed that this other party would fall through but only because it wasn't the right thing for them... I never mentioned myself in the prayers or the benefit that would befall upon me due to their very timely demise. I was doing a selfless act.

And the Wedding God opened his arms and beckoned me to him... He was granting this prayer of mine. I ran to him, filled with the excitement that any young bride-to-be would feel at hearing that the date she wanted at the church just opened up because the other bride's groom went to Vegas and.... well, lets just get excited that The Band is mine. It just feels so right.

Bridal Show Ridiculosity

Against my better judgement, i am going to share with you my thoughts and experiences of a certain event that I attended with my mother. The reason I am hesitant is because you might judge me, as I would definitely judge you.

It has not been 2 months into my engagement, and I have secured every vendor needed for my wedding, with a 50% deposit. With all of this under my belt, my mother and I decided to venture to the Dallas Bridal Show and see what it was all about. No commitments needed to be made, no stress, and just wanting to fill our energy and spirit with other brides who are as excited about weddings as I am.

The first clue that this was the cheese of the cheese, came to me that Saturday morning while my mom and I were at the seamstress discussing how she was going to remake my vintage mantilla style veil. (it was my moms!) I mentioned to the amazing Bea that we were headed to the Dallas Market to check out the Bridal Show. I kid you not, she looked up at me, her eyes as big as my heart is filled with love for Steven (which is huge) and said..."oh... that's interesting". Immediately I began my questioning: Why? What's Wrong? What should I expect? Very classy, she stated, "Its just a little corny, thats all". Understatement of the year.

I'll give you a few experiences that make this day amazingly full of memories. First of all, if you are having a hard time finding a DJ for your wedding, look no further than a Bridal Show. I have never in my life, been so acosted by so many old men in trashy tuxes, using low voice changes to lure me into their booth to discuss "what they can spin". (um, you're not spinning, you are pressing a button on a track that someone else gives you).

Second, be aware of the tasty treats lying around. There are multiple cake vendors who have many options of cake for you to try. Most of them are delicious, except for the one vendor, i will not mention, that had beautiful display, but the cake was so bad i literally spit it out into a napkin. My mom couldn't believe it was so bad so she actually went in for a second try!!! NO GRAYLENE! DON"T DO IT!!! she did. it only got worse, she said...

On the same note as above, there are caterers around displaying their talents and menus and generosity at sharing some mini treats. Well, beware, because one certain caterer had some delicious looking quiches on display. I picked one up and popped it into my mouth... it was chillingly cold and it's all i can do to chew it up and swallow. That's when a 'nice' lady came up to me and, a little curtly, explained that I had just eaten a Display Quiche. REALLY?? um, put up a sign! g.r.o.s.s. I ate a display.

All in all, the show wasn't that bad. Just uber corny with vendors really excited about me being there (which I adore).

Let's quickly move on to the people... Excuse me. Did I title this section Baby Show? No, I didn't. I have never seen so many teenagers, with strollers as big as their large behinds, carting around babies. Babies were everywhere! They hindered my walking, my maneuvering to booths, and just my mood in general. I mean, i love babies, but not at a Bridal Show. At a Bridal Show, it's all about the Bride, aka Me, so move on over little "baby we planned you but you just came 10 years too early".

This posting has become longer than expected, but i cannot leave without discussing the Fashion Show. Ohhh....yes... you read correctly. There was a Fashion Show. Let me create a vision for you... picture this: A large room at a convention center only using 25% of the space... a T shaped runway flanked by shiny polyester drapes in all sorts of pink and white hues accented with a plastic fern...and in the center of it all, to get us brides in the mood, a 50 year old saxaphone player, complete with shades, red t-shirt, and a bald headed low pony tail... it was too much for one day. It is now confirmed that my mom and I can speak to each other with our eyes, because both of us knew exactly what the other was thinking.

Graylene and I left in good spirits. This show reinforced the fact that my mom and I are not only on the same page as far as style, but we that we really do have great taste. :)

The New Me, The Bride to Be

I am obsessed with my wedding. In the past, i have never really cared about weddings. The only thing about them I cared about was the fact that if some of "these" girls were getting married, then I sure as hell could do it. Anyway, a little background as to how i got here...

I originally started this blog, awhile ago, with the intention of regaling my followers with the adventures of my dating life, which, if you know me, was no doubt going to be stories worth telling...well, telling to my friends, not my mom. (just kidding graylene!) I then started dating my boyfriend, who became my fiance and the dating blog fire died...

Well, im back and I am more than inspired. What with all of the Bridal Shows, opinions I have, and my amazing vendor bargaining skills, it would be a travesty to not share my experiences with you all. And let me just reiterate that if planning my wedding was my job, I would be the best in the world. Although I kind of already am. :)