The Reason for the Season

H and I celebrated our 3rd Christmas last Friday/Saturday. Its one of my favorite holidays - not Christmas as much - but our variation of it - usually a week early, so we can be together and personalize the whole event. Naturally, our inner epicureans found us at Old Town Brasserie on Friday night. While it may not have been No. 1 on our list of great Chicago meals, I reckon it has worked its way into the top ten. Having only had French food once before - I was reticent to try it - I am glad we did, though the dirty martini opener probably helped with my willingness to try the escargot. The meal itself was amazing. The proportions were just right and the waiter we had was cool and helpful. So, yes, I would recommend.

We exchanged our gifts on Saturday morning in typical H fashion - we got up early, put christmas pajamas on and turned the channel to the Christmas music station. There we exchanged gifts with the pug intently watching the proceedings. As always, H hit it out of the park - she has a special gift giving ability that I am still trying to cultivate. Without boring you with the details of who got what - I just hope that she was as happy as I was with the thought that went into everything. She is, rightfully, my better half.

That said, I would be remiss if I didn't wish each and every one of you a merry Christmas or happy holiday or good tidings or whatever. If I had two extra minutes I would call all 5 of you (Mom - I would just see you tomorrow). I set sail for the suburbs tomorrow and then hop in a car for the trip to H's parents house in Indianapolis on Christmas morning. I am hoping to break my record of 2hr 15 min from LZ to Indy. I think I can do it, but fear that the weather will not cooperate as much this year.

Happy Holidays to you and yours.

The List...a numbers game.

The day after the engagement, H and I sat at Wishbone with her parents, nursed red wine and champagne hangovers, ate cheese grits for some extra stomach coating and talked about the wedding.

H's Mom was emphatic that we begin making a list of people we are going to invite to this clambake (not literally a clambake - rather, I think "Clueless" was on last night somewhere and I recall one of the characters ("Christian"??) using that phrasing rather judiciously). Suddenly, we need to really look hard at this - I mean how many people do we want at this thing - what is appropriate? What does our budget allow? How big is the space? How many people do we know (note: I have over 400 friends on Facebook - eat that Tila!)?

We started at a rough number 0f 200 - including guests that our parents invite. When it came down to it, we laid out some criteria - if we don't speak to these people, we need to seriously evaluate whether they'll be invited. Who would make the trip? Who weirds us out? Who is going to stress us out? What relationships stand to change - I mean, we're friends now, will we be friends in September, 2009? Who, ultimately, is wedding worthy? Blurgh!

I hate that we have to make these decisions. I mean, we're very fortunate to be where we are. We have surrounded ourselves with great people all of our lives and there are teems of people who are special to us. But, this wedding is about where we are now. I had some great friends in high school. One, in particular, I haven't spoken to in almost 3 years. How can I justify that invite?

Thankfully, I hold grudges...hard. An off-color comment about my sweater or gray hair 9 months ago, may get you on the maybe list, where you feel you should be a solid invite. Don't call me back? Don't worry about booking a flight. So - we started the List. It wasn't too painful. We were going to actually come in under our number - way under, actually. Like 40 or so plates under - nice. With the normal attrition - maybe even more since our wedding is the week after Labor Day weekend - we are looking at an intimate wedding - 150 people tops. Perfect.

Until H gets drinks in her...

I love her...let that be said. She is so sweet. She hates to let people down. These should not be character flaws. Somehow, people have figured this out. An industrious person, who may be angling for an invite to an event 10 months away may mention to H that they would like to come to the wedding. Rather than saying something like - we're not even close to having a list complete - H, through blood shot eyes and purple lips INVITES THEM!! The way this thing is going, I am half-surprised that she hasn't posted an event invite on Facebook.

We're going to have to fly M - our planner - up here to stage a bride-intervention. H is addicted to inviting people...is she keeps this up, our little, discreet, elegant affair will soon turn into just us and our 500 closest friends, hair stylists, nail techs and mail carriers.

Going Dutch

Things are still relatively quiet. We are waiting on some details on music and will most likely finish up phase one here in the next week or two. Fingers crossed.

When this all started (read: when I started this all by proposing to H), it was made very clear to me that my duties entailed planning the honeymoon and going to the tasting. I thought this was a fair trade. And while the scope of my duties has changed, er, expanded, a bit, I still get to plan the honeymoon. Which is nice.

I am not a very well traveled guy. I have been out of the United States exactly 5 times - twice to Mexico, twice to Canada and once to the Bahamas. I was 30 years old when I finally traveled West of Iowa City (we went to San Francisco for our anniversary). My friends make fun of me behind my back and to my face about my reluctance to travel (some play on the words "Bruce Horsnby and the Traveling Wilburys). I have been called "boring in the car," "hard to travel with" and a host of other things. My passport - suffice it to say - bears no stamps (all my travel occurred in a pre-9/11 world)(I know...shameful).

Also - not counting the time I had strep throat in 2006 - I have never taken more than two days off from work in a row.

Thank god I love to plan things.

I explored pretty eccentric options first. I was all about Croatia for a little bit. Apparently, there is a part of that country that is like an hour from everything. I think I heard the words "new Monoco" in relation to it. Alas - there was no way I was going to take a 12 hour flight. That limited things and it soon became clear that we were going South. After heavily researching hurricane season and all things hurricane belt related and quickly checking Wikipedia to detremine the political stability of some countries in South America (read: Venezeuala and Peru), I found it - Curacao in the Dutch Antilles. Its close enough so that we can take full advantage of the trip. Its warm. Its below the hurricane belt. Its a Dutch Colony - replete with euros and smoking in public, terrific little league baseball and a fondness for all things Oranje - including Robin van Persie. Best of all - apart from a Marriot - it seems totally Un-Americanized. In fact, the travel agent we used (thanks to H's step-dad) hadn't even heard of it.

Picking a hotel was slightly more difficult. We kind of earmarked 3 or 4 hotels at the beginning. We wanted proximity to the beach. Nice rooms, and an authentic feel. Each hotel seemed pretty great. But, aside from the marriot (300+ reviews!!) for every 30 positive reviews, there was a review that shook you to the core - I think one hotel had a 2000 word manifesto about how a hotel tried to kill him...it was crazy. Naturally, I don't take the extremely negative reviews seriously. I think there are people out there who feel that if they spend a dollar, they should be treated like Oprah. H and I are not those types of people. Those type of people are frightening. They are always angling for free deserts - because they didn't have water in the first 30 seconds at a new restaurant. I hate them.

We settled where we started - on the oldest hotel on the island. The Avila Hotel kind of fits the bill for us - its on the beach - apparently a rarity. It is close to the Capital city. And, it looks like it can afford us the opportunity to relax after a long planning process.

Verwezenlijkte opdracht!! (which, I think translates to mission accomplished).

Popping and Locking

H asked me last night whether the fact that I have not posted in over a week means I love her less. No, sweetheart, that's not what it means.

Wedding central has been quiet the last few weeks. H is looking at dresses - apparently I need level 5 security clearance to have anything to do with this. We have started looking closer at invites. We visited Paper Doll in Wicker Park to get some traction here - there are tons that we like. We even started looking at designing some using envelopments. The Honeymoon is just about planned (more on that in future posts). We have our guest gift - which, I think is a surprise for the guests, so, I am under some direction to be discreet. Lets just say it may be the only thing that H and I have in common with Ashlee Simpson and Pete Wentz. Its shocking sometimes to tell people how far along we are to get a surprised response - are we doing too much?

Also, we finally closed on the Library - which was a struggle in and of itself. I think the most difficult thing about the whole "negotiating" thing with respect to the library is that we had absolutely zero leverage. We have to get married there - there is no question to H and I. So, then, how do we nickel and dime things like the room rental and the food/beverage minimum? I honestly thought the library's initial offer was good. Thank goodness for M - she was a god send here. Apparently, it [the initial pricing] was not that good. H and I have said at least 100 times now that we would be lost without her. We would have no idea what the hell we're doing. We would never counter a vendor's counter-offer. I don't even think we would think to make a counter offer. There is so much we don't understand. In our day to day lives - yes, we manage to get through without hurting ourselves. Wedding stuff - we're anxious and inexperienced. Anyone can tell you that that is a lethal combination. We would probably already blown the budget. 401ks would be opened - second mortgages taken out. It would be a disaster. This is hyperbole - but you get the point.

Entertainment is next - lets just say we're using a DeeJay... and his name might be DJ Indiana Jones. You read that right. Its not set in stone - so maybe thats why I am fighting the urge to attach Harrison Ford's pictures to this post...stay tuned.

Happy Birthday Bubs -

Today is H's birthday - I would be remiss if I didn't tell all 4 of my readers that (better chance than not that you already knew). One of the things I love about H is just how much she loves little events like birthdays, Thanksgiving, Christmas - they are really important to her and she gets really excited for them. Its really...cute. Can I say cute? No matter - its just one of those things I really enjoy about her - you cannot help but get caught up in the holiday euphoria when you're with her.

I have a special night planned. I have been trying to give her her gifts for over ten days. I won't spoil it here with details (hyperlinking to follow), but I am really excited.

Happy Birthday baby.

UPDATE

I know that my loyal readers will be interested to know about H's birthday extravaganza. In a word - it was perfect. With the wedding and the economy, our nights out have been fewer and farther (further?) between...so, going out for a big night out has taken on a new meaning for us. If I can brag for a moment - I think I delivered on Friday night. We had an amazing night filled with terrific conversation, food, drinks and company.

Per our custom, we don't tell the other where we are going to take the other for the birthday. I had made 8:00 reservations at Takashi. Its a place that we have wanted to try for sometime. Its in the old Syclla space - which we just love - we took our parents there the weekend we introduced them to each other. So, the space, itself, carries a special meaning for us...and it was just named in Esquire magazine as one the Country's top 20 new restaurants. Not bad at all. I made reservations almost 2 months ago. Needless to say, it almost killed me to keep from examining the menu and researching the place to death.

Before Takashi, however, we had a stop to make. We have long talked about making plans to have drinks at The Violet Hour. It was fitting that it was H's birthday to finally make good on those ideas. If there is a cooler place in Chicago, I want to hear about it. The understated, vintage feel was worth it alone - add to that some innovative and crafted cocktails - and you had us. The most disappointing thing about the Violet Hour, we decided, was that it took us so long to try it. Now we're looking for a time to go back.

It is a short cab ride to Takashi from the Violet Hour - we were on time and seated. Immediately, you get the vibe that Takashi is a step above. Everyone wished H a happy birthday and they gave us a nice corner table by the window on the top level. The food was insanely good (highly recommend the Grilled Octopus as a hot appetizer). Our entrees were both pinch perfect (she had the Fluke - I had the chicken in a clay pot). Neither of us were uncomfortably full after the meal - which is nice for a change. We loved this place (I have already e-mailed several friends to recommend it). The subtleties make the difference to us at a restaurant - neither of us could say one bad thing about this place...

Best Birthday ever? I know there was no easy bake oven involved, but I would like to think so. It was one of our nights that I won't forget.

Why I'm Marrying Her: No. 820

Last night, H and I met for drinks after work. We grabbed some to-go and headed home to watch a movie. Once the movie was over, I decided to go to bed (it was 11:30 PM afterall).

H stayed up, drank a bottle of wine and watched r&b videos until 4AM.

Tying one on...

Interestingly enough, one of the more talked about decisions (read: thing I keep bringing up until I get my way) is what I am going to wear to my own wedding...

I loathe (yes, loathe!) rented tuxes. I have spent nearly $1500 in rented tuxedos over the course of the last 10 years...and all I have to show for it is a rash. There is little else I dislike more than a rented tux (a pin tie on the DJ while he plays the b-52's is the only thing that remotely comes close). The scratchy shirt. The ill fitting (PLEATED!!!) pants. The clunky shoes. Its all for the birds. I will not make my groomsmen wear tuxedos (you're welcome). I can't justify it. I'm a better friend than they are (you know, if you made me rent a tux).


I am a fan of Jcrew suits - flat front pants - cut for the tall-ish. I would wear it when I am not, you know, getting married. Perfect for my wedding. Understated and classic. I have my eye on one or two. You can take the guy out of Miami...

This is where H and I diverge - I have no interest in being buttoned up, or having a tie on at my own wedding. I think everyone thinks I am joking. But I am serious. Seriously. Despite my job - its not how I live my life. The second I am out of court, that tie is off. More than that - I like the look of a suit with no tie. I'm more comfortable, thereby, more confident (I think). Isn't that what we all want. Of course, there is compromise - I just don't think H (or her mother) are going to go for it.

I think I am going to lose this battle. I am prepared to lose this battle. Its just that when we watch Bridezillas, those crazy [girls] do everything short of holding their breath until they get what they want. Maybe I should start practicing...

The Story so far...

I have been doing this a whole week - I have tons of material (seriously, just wait until I break down the Lisa Copola episodes of Bridezillas). I promised H that when I became comfortable with the content of this blog, she can start letting people know about it...I have, so has she. Ultimately, we hope to use this space as an information center for our guests as well as a source of my constant panic induced spell checked ramblings...I have enjoyed it so far - its been cathartic. I love writing about H and I.

In the coming months, I am looking forward to putting all of the little touches that typify H and I together for one hell of a party for our friends and especially, our families, then recounting it here for you. There is still a ton to do...Everyone has been so awesome thus far - H's mom and Stepdad (who's input I have really appreciated) for supporting us and our decisions and going out of their way to see things when we can't; her aunt M for being so excited for her niece and coming up with some great ideas and putting us in contact with the right people; my Mom - who is just so excited to have another daughter-in-law (after raising 4 boys, who can blame her?); and our friends, who help keep us grounded during these first stressful months...we hear that we are almost through Phase 1 and then there will be some downtime. That cannot get here soon enough...

So, apparently, I have been tagged...

I was tagged earlier this morning by Bailee's Bride from Bailee's Bride - a blog for brides (and the people and pooches who humor them during their momentary departure from sanity)

I am new to this blog game - so, I don't want to be blackballed by the Wedding Blogger's union or really any union (though, if we could have a Dan Sears v. Steve Sanders "KEG" House blackball ceremony, I could get behind that). A little something about Bailee's Bride, while I am thinking about it...I like her site. H likes her site...it turns out that she knows the author from their days in law school. If you read her posts, you will probably notice one or two similarities - namely, we are all getting married in Indianapolis - and we all have impeccable taste in planners...small world. In any event, H, e-mailed her yesterday, so I appreciate the shout-out.

That said, I will only go to third base on this one. I linked to Bailee's Blog. Its only fair. I will talk about myself...which, obviously, I love. I'll even link to other blogs - because, despite the fact that English departments across the country blame "blogs" and "blogging" for the decline of appropriate and even thought-provoking writing - these seven are - at the very least - written well enough or cleverly enough to hold my attention (despite my rock hard standards). I'm just not going to go and post and force them to link to me. I don't even know if I want that much action here.

First, here are the rules I must follow for being tagged:
1. Link to your tagger and list these rules on your blog.
2. Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.
3. Tag 7 people at the end of your post by including links to their blog.
4. Let them know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog!

Without further adieu...

1. I routinely wake up at 6 AM to watch Arsenal football matches and drink heavy beers...
2. I read Kurt Vonnegut's entire catalogue in the summer between my Junior and Senior years at Miami
3. I want to take comedy classes - not improv though, just comedy writing.
4. Until last November, I had never been West of Iowa City
5. I hate shoes and socks
6. I don't mind when the Pug licks my feet for 15-20 minutes straight
7. In the last 2 days, I have watched 6 episodes of "Bridezillas" on the WE channel...seriously.

Now, I recommend:
1.) I'm bringing blogging back
2.) Arseblog
3.) It happened last night - Gossip Girl
A must read every Tuesday Morning...
4.) Paper Doll - Chicago
we were in here last week - we love their invitations...and their house Pug, Maude.
5.)Monaville Road
6.) Nathanial Edmunds Phlog
7.) Long Live Locke

OK then - a quick aside - it does not appear that I received the Uber-blog award or whatever I may/may not have been nominated for...stay tuned for my expose on sexism in wedding blogging...

Eleven Eleven...

Its fitting that tomorrow is Remembrance Day. Three years ago tomorrow, my Dad, Buzz, passed away. It was, without a doubt, the most harrowing, exhausting days of my life.

Buzz and I were close. We talked. He was hilarious. He was understated, introspective and quiet. He worked hard. He was honest. He was proud of my brothers and I. He loved his wife. He had a basic understanding of what was right and he did his best to stay on that side of the line. He was a good man. I try to be like that everyday. A day doesn't pass that I don't wish for one more day with him or that I would have met him for that beer for my 27th birthday or called him back after he left a VM for me describing a Northwestern v. Wisconsin football game days before he went in for the surgery.

I miss him, especially around this time of year. I am saddened by the fact that he never met H. It was almost a full year after he passed away that we met. At times, it is inconceivable to me that the woman I am going to spend the rest of my life with only knows my Dad through stories I have told. He would have absolutely adored her. Buzz would have been immediately taken by H's energy, her passion and compassion - just like I was. I wish that I could hear my Dad's old stories about me (the one's he always told my GFs when they first came to the house) just one last time (and that H could hear them as well, of course). They would have been fun to be around. H is the type of woman who can take a joke. My Dad was the type of guy that liked to hand it out a little.

The fact that his presence at our wedding will be resorted to a candle and a photograph hurts. I would have liked to have him there. I would have liked to hear his speech at the Rehearsal dinner. I would have loved to see him try to dance with my Mom. I would like that moment, when I catch his eye, raise my glass and nod in his direction - a thank you for being my Dad. These are amongst the things I will be thinking about on September 12, 2009, when H and I are married.

The last time I saw him I was leaving his room at the care center. I shook his hand and turned around as I left and said "I love you Dad" and then repeated it to make sure he knew...

You are missed...

Act I, Scene I

A few months ago, H and I suffered a pretty significant loss...Starfish Sushi - the location of our first date (2 years ago today), had just up and closed on us. No warning. No dear John letter. Just locked doors and a bright orange City of Chicago sticker was all that was left. When H learned of this news, she was noticeably disappointed - she takes these things hard...when she lost her cell phone last March - she was hysterical. She had lost all of the messages - including the first VM - that I had left her ("Hi - this is [T] - the hyper-sensitive gorilla you met Saturday...") and some of my more randy (spelling) text messages. This was kind of like that. We only had a few dates at SFS - the last of which was a year ago - for our last anniversary... that did not darken the special place in our collective hearts for its slightly off maki and lychee martinis. We must have sat in the front booth by the door for hours that night - first, nervously working around the edges of conversation and then, as the night grew more comfortable, laughing, discussing and sharing our stories - life with H, for the most part, is effortless, we get eachother - and that night, at our old friend, was the beginning.It was (and is) a part of our history - the starting point...our Lexington (or Concord?). Act I, Scene I. The first chapter of our story...

So, tonight, we'll begin new traditions... Graham Elliot. We are excited - we have heard wonderful things. But we'd be remiss if we didn't miss Starfish just a little...

Thank God we made it...

Two years ago today - after several all night phone calls (the type of calls you have when you first start talking), H and I met outside Thompson Center for our first date - it has been butterflies ever since.

Happy Anniversary bubs. I love you.

About Us

NEP sent us a questionnaire when we booked them as our photographers. I eat this stuff up - getting H to sit down for a moment and fill it out took some work, but last Sunday, we found some time to hammer it out. I was pleased with the results. We're funny-ish.

What are three favorite things you like to do together (i.e. grocery store shopping, reading the newspaper at a café, rock climbing, walking, going to the movies, etc.)

1.) Taking the Pug to the Montrose Dog Beach; 2.) sitting on our roof deck in the summer with a stack of magazines and cold drinks; 3.) meeting after work on a Friday for a martini at the Paramount Room - our favorite bar/lounge; 4.) (Can we pick four?) - we love lazy weekend lunches/brunches.

Name three places you have been together that are especially unique.

Because of our jobs, we don't get to travel as much as we would like, but 1.) Classic Korean Karaoke in Korea Town, here in Chicago; 2.) Hayes Street in San Francisco (we saw a drive-by shooting in the Mission, though); and 3.) We visited Oxford, OH in 2007 - which was unique since we both went to Miami at the same time, but never met - so, it was our first time there together - almost 10 years after [T] graduated.

Name three personality traits for each of you.

We picked three things for each other: [T] says H is 1.) Hilarious - nobody makes me laugh like she does; 2.) Quirky - she sees the world a little differently and I love that; 3.) Brilliant - she constantly reminds me that she is Phi Beta Kappa - I love that she is secretly Nerdy.

H says [T] is 1.) Creative - he often breaks into song with his own lyrics made up on the fly- most of the time they make sense; 2.) Funny/Witty - that's what he brings to the table; and 3.) Loyal - he doesn't quit on people.

When you can do anything you want to, what do you do?

H - naps/lays down/zones out/decompresses - basically, she sleeps; T - watches Arsenal soccer; Together - we continually ask each other "what do you want to do?" and then go to lunch in the neighborhood, where we have slightly too much to eat/drink, [then] H sleeps and T watches Soccer.

What do you think is most unique about you as a couple?

We love that we have this comfort level around each other - we are always laughing and feel that other people, when they meet us, can see a great couple that really just enjoys the company of the other. We compliment each other in both subtle and obvious ways and we are one another's biggest cheerleader.

Anything we could say to really make you laugh?

T's first nickname for H was "pee-bag" - thats sure to get a laugh.

Yes. She. Did.

Yesterday morning, before I left to vote, I left a post-it note for H, which read "I vote for you."

When I got home, there was a note from her that said "I voted for change. Whoops."

Nice.

These Pictures Better be Worth more than a Thousand Words

Its embarrassing. As I have said so far, I don't think I anticipated doing much of anything by ways of planning for this wedding. H really did just tell me to do the honeymoon and that may be it. Now, I am finding more and more that things that were not that important to me are becoming critical to me. A lot of times, this happens when M forwards on some information or gives us a website to check out. Maybe I am so de-sensitized by all the weddings that I have been to over the years that I figured all the amenities that come with the wedding are pretty interchangeable. There is no difference between this invite and that invite. These flowers and those. Anyone can DJ a party, right?

I was wrong. Dead wrong. And I am going to have the pictures to prove it.

Great Pictures! but maybe not for us.

We have a budget. Despite what you read here, we are doing our best to be cost conscious. We think its working, for the most part. One of the areas where we really anticipated saving some money was with the photographer. My Mom has been working weekends at a wedding photography studio for over the last decade. It was something she always loved to do and she and my Dad (who worked there for a while as well) used it as a means to cultivate their love for photography. This studio has been good to my Mom. She loves meeting with the brides (rarely the grooms)(see what I am doing there?). She loves putting together the proof books. Its really something she enjoys. I think in part due to her loyalty to this studio, it did not charge full freight for my youngest brother's wedding last September. This really helped them out. And they really liked the photos.

We understood that that same offer would be extended to us, if we chose my Mom's studio. We thought of the money we could save. The things we could do with it. What if we...*gasp*...came in under budget?!? There was one slight problem. We really didn't like the style of the photographs. This is not to say that they weren't good. The photographer is very good. He was just too traditional for us. We envisioned a pretty lively party - we wanted someone to capture all of that, plus, we wanted a more photo-journalistic approach - with lots of candid shots. We would do the traditional pics, but really wanted the focus to be on the randomness of the event. We didn't know if this option would be able to do that...but ultimately, we may have been resigned to letting him try. I mean, weddings aren't cheap. This would have been found money.

I blame this one on M. She e-mailed H and I six Indianapolis photographers to look at - a few weren't for us, a few we liked, but one, Nathanial Edmunds Photography, we absolutely fell head-over-heels, we have to have them do our wedding, in love with. From the moment we opened their "phlog" we were hooked. They had such a style. Each of shoots had a very personal feel, like they spent a week at the couple's home and got to know them and their personalities. If the couple had a little edge - you could tell. The photos told that story. But then, if there was a devout christian couple, you could see that as well from their photos. Plus, they were local - they knew Indianapolis and they knew M.

Had we not seen this site, we may have been OK with the cost conscious option. But the fates intervened...

We struggled with this. I mean, there was a cost-benefit analysis somewhere in all of this photography business. Were we crazy? Yes. And yes, they were more expensive. Were we really ready to spend the extra money? YES.WE.WERE. We had drinks at the Paramount Room that Friday night. As the basement flooded there, H and I talked about all this photography business. It became increasingly clear that the photographs had taken on a new meaning for me...um, us. What was ancillary to the wedding, now has become one of our biggest needs. I mean, in fifty years, this is all we will really have from that day. And we wanted it to be cool and to tell the story of us on that day - or as M put it - the story of the wedding the way our guests saw it. We thought that NEP were the photographers for this...

Winner Winner Chicken Dinner

I had warned M that we were meeting to talk about this that night and may drunk text her - we texted her that we HAD to have NEP and she went straight to work on them. The date, we understood, was tentatively booked. Apparently, though, the other couple was unresponsive. NEP was not pleased. There were ultimatums. There were blown deadlines. There was begging. It was really here, that I understood just how competitive this wedding thing is. There are a finite number of quality vendors out there and we all fight like grade schoolers for them. Late Saturday night, in a frantic text/phone call/e-mail/facebook wall post/phone call/e-mail, we got them. Within hours, we were FB friends with NEP, and looking at all sorts of questionnaires. I couldn't sign the contract fast enough.I couldn't wait to share the news with H - who had been in the office all day and then took a cooking class that night (which is basically a reason to power-bomb wine and make mashed potatoes). All of it was exhilirating and I am so excited that we got the photographer that we need to shoot this wedding. I have not been able to stop thinking about it and I am constantly checking their phlog (I will use this word until it catches on) for updates...its crazy to me that something which was so, SO down the list of important things to me in all of this, is now the thing I am most excited about - I cannot wait to see what they can do.

Who says Flower Girls need to be Human?

We are intent on making the Pug part of the wedding. Strangely, this has been met with more resistance than our decision to forego getting married in a Church. Which is hilarious. Granted, we see the logistical nightmare to having this snorting, scratching, wheezing, begging little monster hanging out between our feet as we get married and then terrorizing our guests as they sip on their vodka sodas.

But on the other hand...we literally spend most of our time together playing, staring, and laughing at the Pug. We were asked recently about our three favorite things to do together - No. 1 on the list was taking the Pug to the Montrose Beach Dog park. We fall apart if we even think about life without this little terrorist. She sleeps in our bed and shares my pillow - I haven't had a good night's sleep in two weeks, but every time I get home, I kiss H hello and then grab this dog.

Is it strange that I am even entertaining this? Lets figure this out. I may not want this just for H. This one might be for me too. Who says the groom doesn't get to have say?

She's Just Monica from the Block

How did we know that we needed a wedding planner? Because we were about to kill eachother, that's how.

We have a date. We have a venue. What we don't have is our sanity. H's work schedule has become insane in the weeks following the engagement. She got drafted in to second chair a $9 mil wrongful death matter in one of the suburban courts. Its just two weeks - 15 hours a day during the most critical time of the planning. No biggie. Now, trials are a strange bitch - during the week prior and through the duration of the trial, you eat, sleep, drive and shower with the facts of the case. You have nightmares about the cross-examinations. You have nightmares that your lead witness suddenly changed his/her testimony. You have nightmares that the Mark Paul Gosselaar legal drama on TNT will get picked up for another season. It sucks. Not just for you, but for everyone around you.

This made things difficult. H had no time during the day to make decisions. And, at night, she didn't want to deal with the wedding. Simply put, she wasn't into this and it was driving a wedge between us. Finally, in typical fashion, I aired my grievances in a phone call while she was at work...this wedding, with the way it was going, may break us - we entertained just taking the money and running - we'd just go to the Justice of the peace and have him marry us. We agreed that "we" were more important than "it" (the wedding), but if we really wanted to go through with this, we would need a planner.

Thankfully, everyone and their hairdresser knows a planner. I had clients suggesting people. Bus Drivers. The Fed EX lady that I think is crushing on me...it was crazy. I think there is a quiet understanding amongst people that just have been married that the planning part of the day is insanely stressful...some people may love it. We were not those people. All advice was welcomed.

(Baby's) Breath of Fresh Air

Ultimately, we sought counsel from the events coordinator at the Indianapolis Public Library - where, if you have been following - is where we are planning to get married. Nora suggested Monica Richard of Detail + Design. Within an hour or two, Monica had e-mailed and attempted to set up a time to speak. We loved this...we hadn't even been introduced, but she was making the first move. This never happened to me in college.

From the start Monica (hereafter "M") was awesome...she reached out to H and helped assuage some of her wedding planning anxieties. She was professional. She was cool. I think we knew before we even set up the date with her, that we were going to use her. As I talked about earlier, we were in Indy to look at the sites (and for a wedding)(which I may not have talked about earlier). We set up a time to meet with M. She asked us for a "wants" list and a "don't want" list regarding our wedding - it was supposed to be 6 things total - M got more than she bargained for - our list was 42 things long. We're picky. Some of the favorites of the "don't want" list: Ties; religion; and the bouquet toss. Traditions be damned.

The First Date

I was really anxious about meeting M. It was my understanding that she only did 10-12 weddings a year. So, this meeting, to me, at least, was about impressing upon her that we were cool. Which can be hard for me. I get nervy. I talk too much. I make uncomfortable jokes. How has H stayed with me? How did I ever get a second date when I am this fumbly and geeky?

Not surprisingly, H shined at this meeting and her and M really hit it off. It was a match made in heaven. My future Mother-in-Law was in tow (she and H wore matching outfits...no kidding). She was even impressed. Apparently, we impressed upon M enough that we were OK people and she agreed that she could make herself available to us. We took a day to decide and called M on our way back to the CHI. We were in...the check is in the mail. I was thrilled. We hadn't budgeted for this, but, god willing, M has been our savior. As I cruised at 85 MPH north on I-65, the tension that could have have been our biggest obstacle, was lifted.

Why I'm Marrying Her: No. 819

The other morning I woke up typically early - maybe 7:30 AM or so and took the dog for a walk, made coffee and caught up on shows that I am not allowed to watch during the week (a by-product of living together that they never tell you about).

The Pug kept waking up and staring at the back of our condo - where the bedrooms are. I thought "no way H is up - its only 9:15 AM" (she would sleep until it was dark out if I'd let her). I went back to the bedroom around 10:30 AM and saw two perfect stacks of laundry: whites and darks, separated on the floor. H was sleeping. Apparently, she woke up, separated her laundry, and, after finding it too taxing, she went back to bed. I could only laugh. It is well documented that I hate the hours that she sleeps and I am awake. But this was totally worth it.

Welcome to the Monkey House

H and I are not a typical couple. We pride ourselves on it. We like restored dishware with skulls on it. We own pistol bookends and a gun vase. We watch ghost hunting shows and dissect them more than we did the election. We're not edgy. But we're not traditional either. This meant that there would be no church. This also meant that the location where we got married had to be real unique.

We still get the cake, right?

H and I spoke about getting married for a while. We figured we would get married back at Miami (where we both went to school), that way we could create a memory of Oxford of us together. We even went as far as telling all our friends - most of whom are Miami grads as well, that they should get their drinking caps on - because we're forcing them to go back to school.

Despite H's mother's advice that we secure a date and place immediately, We decided to take a few days to just enjoy being engaged - like every couple should do. That may have been our first mistake. Naturally, every place in Oxford was booked by the time that we called. We could have compromised and planned a wedding over Thanksgiving Break or in the dead of winter, but that was not really what we wanted. That, and O-town (as we affectionately call it) lacks certain "unique" party spaces. There was Marcum Conference Center and Shriver Center. The only thing, we thought, that separated these venues from the Concord Banquet Hall in Lake Zurich, Illinois was that these were in Ohio. This made it easy to justify our decision not to get married at Miami after all.

We haven't had the heart to break it to our friends that Oxford is not going to happen. *Sigh*

Books bound in Leather and the rich smell of mahoganey.

In a very short time, we went from having our dream wedding in a quaint college town with all our friends and $0.25 wings and penny pitchers to being venue-less and idea-less. H's greatest fear was about to be realized: we were going to have to get married in Indianapolis. Now, this isn't to say that Indy is not a great town: it is. Its closer, there are more options, the prices are good, there are hotels to stay at. I just don't think this was what she wanted...at all. It may give too many people too much of a say in all of this. We have to include more and more people in the planning. We have to rely on people for their knowledge with respect to the area. Oxford - fine, its a blank slate - people have no opinions. Indianapolis - suddenly, we are entertaining opinions. They're like belly-buttons. This has been the toughest part for me - us - the managing of expectations of everyone else. I want to make people happy, but most of all, I want H to be happy.

We procrastinated (a theme for us) and spent one Sunday night - a week after the engagement - looking at unique venues on-line. There were several and we found ourselves getting excited about the process. Maybe we could have a cool wedding in Indy? Is that possible? That's when we saw it. In fairness, this one is all H (with a slight wink to my sister-in-law Jill and Carrie Bradshaw from Sex and the City). She seemed to recall the Indianapolis public library being kind of cool. We went on-line. It, in fact, was cool. Real cool. And affordable. Is this it? We wanted it...bad.

I was all over this. The next morning I stalked the Library, until I was able to get some information. It was available - it was sweet. Everyone over there was extremely helpful. I put a lot of credence into the idea that we have to like who we decide to work with. To put it mildly, I loved the vibe from everyone at the Library. They were energetic. They were trying to grow a event business at the facility. I may have logged 4 or 5 billable hours speaking to these ladies over the next few days. H and I were pretty sure that we wanted to get married here - so, we signed the rental agreement and crossed our fingers. We arranged for a time to see it when we would be in town. The problem, however, was that this being Indianapolis, we had to hear everyone else out. H's mother and aunt were big fans of a private club on the circle. We agreed to see it before we made any decisions (though, I think the decision had been made). I loved this place - it was old school. Like where you'd expect a Gossip Girl wedding to be held if Dan and Serena finally come to their senses (Little J and Nate?). This was a blessing - its great when your two decisions are both places you can deal with. The club, however, kept stressing tradition and "making it look like a church." That was kind of a turn off for us. You can have all the carved walls and marble floor in the world, but don't you dare think that making something look like a church is a good selling point to us.

Over to the library. It was a no-brainer. This place is ridiculous. The lighting. The old and new. The fact that Vonnegut's name is engraved in the wall (see what I did there...the title makes sense now). This was "us."I think we could have spent the entire day in there. I could sense H getting into this. Her mother was a little more reserved - which worried me. I really want her to love the decisions we make. Ultimately, though, this is our decision. We called the club and released the date - we were library or bust.

Text the exes: we're engaged.

I am sure that everyone says this: I don't like the word "blog." I don't blog. I have never blogged. I don't even like responding to group e-mails. In fact, seldom do I e-mail more than one person at a time. Too much pressure. Too many eyes. E-mail is so much more personal to me. Meant for one person. Unless, you know, its an evite. That said, I am just as surprised as you that I am here...writing to you. My goal, really, is to chronicle my engagement and then ultimately gift it to my future wife, so she can tuck it into the back of the scrapbook that my mother has probably already started to put together. Yes, to answer your whispers, I am whipped.

And the truth is I am embarrassed by how "into" this wedding I am. I never expected to have any real responsibility. Sure - I would get to go to the tasting, help pick the DJ/Band, plan the honeymoon - you know, things I can't screw up - but through a crazy series of events and conflicts, I am smack in the middle of the planning - a position that I never thought I would be in, and a position that scares the hell out of me.

Backstory - don't fall in love with us...we're taken.

I think H and I were destined to meet. We went to the same college. We had some of the same friends. We knew similar people in our work lives. But for whatever reasons, I only met H two years ago...at a halloween party. Its fun when we tell people that. Invariably, they ask what did we dress up as. good question. H celebrated the holiday as most single, attention seeking ladies do - dressed as something dirty and agressively power chugging rasberry vodka and sodas (I wore my gorilla outfit (yes, "my" as in mine, showing possession)). Almost from the start (well, at least 10 minutes after her and her friend screamed Bette Midler at me), I was in. I wasn't particularly charming that night. Rude, maybe, but definitely not charming. The facts get blurred, but for whatever reason, I remember making several remarks about the Dove House Women's Shelter. Apparently, H was a sucker for mysoginistic pick-up lines (Mystery might call it negging) and for whatever reasons, H broke her own rules and gave me her number - I called. She screened. My message was gold. She called back. I screened. Repeat. 5 days later, we finally touched base and our first date was soon thereafter. It sounds cheesy when I say it, but from that first date (Starfish Sushi - RIP),(Rumor has it that the text to her best friend once I put her in the cab read three simple words: "Best.Date.Ever.") we have been inseperable. Ultimately, I think we just met each other at the perfect time - when both of us were good enough with ourselves that we could commit to each other. Seriously. We moved in together the following May...thats 7 months for those who count things like that.

The Ring is Burning a Hole in my (cardigan) pocket

I knew pretty early on that I was going to marry this woman. It was such a no-brainer for me. So, I guess that created a certain anti-climaticism (is that a word?) about our impending engagement. We designed a ring to her specifications. I bought it. I stressed. I called her mother for her blessing (maybe more stressful than the actual engagement) and then picked the absolute worst day for H to propose to her - H was swamped with work that day - and had a late meeting, which started at 5:00 PM that Friday. I knew she would be so pissed off by the time she got home, that she would never expect this. I left work early that day, cleaned the house, maybe made a proposal mix CD and waited. And waited. It was 8:15 PM and I was till waiting. I started to stress. I had previously arranged to get some of our family and close friends together at our favorite after-work bar (Paramount Room) to surprise her. Her parents even made the drive in from Indianapolis. They had been at the Paramount since 8:00 PM. They were probably 3-9 drinks in at this point.

H texted me that she was leaving soon. So, I lit candles. I put on a tie and sweater. I put in my super sweet proposal mix CD and sat by the back window, so I'd know the moment she was home. I don't know what I expected here: I think I half-anticipated that she would know I was about to propose when she came in, heard the sweet proposal mix and saw me dressed up in a candle lit room. I may have given her too much credit - H immediately thought that there was an accident and that I was preparing to tell her some bad news. She kept saying "what's going on" and "tell me! did something bad happen!?!" It wasn't until she saw me fumbling around my cardigan pocket, that she knew and settled down a little. Whatever I had planned to say was pretty much resorted to some stream of consciousness "i love you's" and "I want you to marry me's"

She said yes. obviously. We drank some WS champagne and listened to Ray LaMontagne. And then I had to find a way to rush her out the door. I suggested that we go out and celebrate at our favorite bar. I convinced H that my law school friends were meeting us out - you should have seen H's face when we got there - it was insane. If we were popular, or whatever, this would have been our paparazzi well...You can see her eyes follow around - Almost in a perfect circle were her closest friends, my Mom and brother, and then, last, her mother - she screamed. It may have been the best part of the night for her.

We were toasted and drank and drank...until we were the last ones there. We sat there for a moment taking the gravity of our commitment all in. Then we went for late night hot dogs...