Yuppie Coffee and Mimosa Party

Yesterday morning, we knocked the cobwebs off and went to what was labeled by a friend as "the most yuppy sounding thing ever!" - the Wedding Registry class at Crate and Barrel. The class - starting at 9:00 AM at the Crate/Barrel on Michigan Avenue - is a 2 hour free-for-all in the store. You are greeted by a cabal of falsely excited CB employees that may secretly hate you for getting them up 2 hours before they may normally get out of bed and roll out of their parents house in Tinley. You get coffee and mimosas and little cakes and muffins with frosting and then you are split in groups of ten or so and given a tour of the store. Upon completion of the tour, they give you a little scanner and told you that you have about 105 minutes before the soccer moms in cheap leather coats from Chattanooga, TN in town for Spamalot and Michigan Avenue shopping trips are alllowed into the store. We better get to work.

This was - At the same time - the most intimidating and exhilarating thing ever.

We have both struggled with the idea that we are selecting things that we want people to buy us. If you haven't noticed we are in a recession, so the idea of making a list of mid-priced items that we may or may not need seems a little strange to us (of course, this logic was dismissed when we registered for an $1100 chair because we liked the color "canoe green")(I have seen some ridiculous registries, but this item definitely takes the cake)(Sorry everyone!). So, there is that element and then the fact that H and I started dating at 28 and have lived together for almost 2 years. We have accumulated a lot of things for the house. We have pots and pans and dish rags and towels and forks and colanders and what have you - they all work just fine.

I learned quickly that the key to registering for wedding gifts is to suspend logic and just look at and scan the stuff that you might use at some time. Simple enough. Symbolically, we registered for the above-pictured meat tenderizer first. It is basically the only thing that I want - every since seeing Trainer Bob on Biggest Loser show some contestant how to flatten chicken breast so it cooks more evenly and gets rid of some of the fat - I have been obsessed. I had used a hammer for a while - so the thought of actually having the proper kitchen utensil to do this is going to be awesome. I am going to tenderize everything!

Admittedly, once we got past the "do we really need an egg-timer" phase and started registering and asking questions about styles and place-settings, it got kind of fun. The fact that the store was free of Europeans benefiting from the current euro-US Dollar exchange rate was nice. All the couples were great - if they saw that you were at the knives, they would go somewhere else and then circle back later (the guy in shorts and a gold windbreaker from Charlotte, NC may just reach around you, or just breathe on your neck while you are trying to determine what cuisanart products were the best for you).

I asked H later what her favorite part was and she said the idea of registering for all these things that we will use in our future together. That's simple enough. And true enough. It was fun for H and I talk about what kind of couple we are and what we want to do with the house and what kind of parties we want to have and what our future together will be like. It was fun to think that we would have some of these items for our next 20 years (if Dan in knives is to be believed) and that they would be ours, rather than the items that we both contributed to the house when we moved in together (my couch, her lamps, etc).

It will be nice when it is all 'our home.'

Boot Camp

H and I were in Indianapolis last weekend for what M affectionately called "Bridal Boot Camp" (nevermind the fact that I was 'required' to attend as well)(wedding planning is so sexist). The basic aim of the weekend was to meet our photographers and to get down to the nitty-gritty and start putting our 'vision' into action. To do so, H and I spent all week creating our vision boards, like the nutjob (Renee?) in the first episode of this season's "The Bachelor" to really 'visualize' the wedding in an effort to 'realize' the wedding (Mine was on a green posterboard with bedazzled words like "dalliance" and "elegant" - H's was a little more forthright - it simply read "BAM!!" with random pictures she pulled from Domino Magazine). OK - so, we didn't really do the vision boards - but, whatever, we had thoughts - and pictures. Lots of pictures.

The trip didn't start out great - I went to work in the morning and H would pick me up around noon. Naturally, at 12:10 PM, I freaked out and put a small, passive aggressive phone call in...it did not go over very well. Thankfully, H downloaded and played "I'm on a Boat" and everything was forgotten.

We made good time (very important to me) and immediately upon our arrival, it was on - dinner with H's parents and then drinks with M (arm cast and all), and Nate and Tiffany from NEP - our photographers. I have to point out that we had drinks in Zionsville, IN at a place called the Lobby - in the Brick Street Inn - If we ever move to Indianapolis (big if) - I want to live in Zionsville. It is a perfect little town and the Lobby serves Saison Du Pont - which is strange in an awesome way. I was pretty nervous about this meeting - I really wanted Nate and Tiffany to like us and to be as excited about the process. I am convinced if they think we're cool, we'll get 'cool' pictures. I don't know why - probably some deep-seeded high school esteem issue I have yet to deal with. More than that, H and I think its important that Nate gets a good feel for our personalities - if we're all comfortable with one another, then we think that makes for great photos. I think we all vibed right away - though I have had H pester M to make sure that they liked us - strangely no confirmation yet.

As is custom, I fell asleep and H stayed up watching television, having a glass (bottle) of wine and going through old pictures - around 3 AM, she finally came to bed. We were due to be at Detail + Design to meet with M and Gene at 9:00 AM. This was a problem. We rolled in at 9:30 AM. We make great first impressions. I don't think we have been on time to a meeting yet.

We were casually told beforehand that Gene - the lead designer at D+D - could take whatever we tell him and kind of commit it to a vision. We think that he immediately understood what we wanted - and was able to offer suggestions and show us examples. It was pretty amazing when you think about it. I don't even know if H and I knew exactly what we wanted, but Gene was able to figure us and our vision out. I don't want to spoil it with details and the like, but I have to say, that we are both extremely excited about how this is going to look. I can't wait to see our guest's faces when they walk into the reception - it could be ridiculous.

Gene left us to M for the rest of the afternoon for some tough love - budget talks, timelines, marriage licenses - all the little things that we just don't think about and/or don't know about getting married. Since M is crazy organized - she will have this wedding planned to what seems like the minute. I am glad that she is on our side. We can't be profusive enough in our praise for this woman. She should be equally commended for not ripping our heads off when we let her know that the "number" had inflated a little. We had originally anticipated inviting 160 - 180 people with hopes that 140 would be our final guest tally - M had budgeted everything around this number. You could actually feel the exasperation in her voice when we kind of casually mentioned that the number of invitees was closer to 200. Oops.

It was at this point that we let M know a little secret - its the off-shore wedding account. An account that H secretly has been putting money into to help pay for some things wedding related - like her dress and some other 'big ticket' items. So, our budget has been slightly misleading for a while now. We like our secrets, but for the sake of the coordinator - uncoordinated relationship, we thought best to let M (and all 6 of you readers) in on this one - sorry M!

Levity had been restored - the sigh of relief in the room blew our hair back (and our vision boards off the wall).

Valentime's Day...

Unless you hate television and the red eye and the city's most romantic restaurant polls, no doubt that you knew this past weekend was Valentine's Day - normally an opportunity for drunk twenty-five year olds to hop on a trolley for the Screw Cupid pub crawl. You know who you are...

But for H and I its our one and only Valentines day as an engaged couple - which makes it special for us. I have said this before, I am not that into Holidays - especially non-holidays, and least of all manufactured holidays, that are not really holidays (PTL I don't have a secretary). I sound like my Dad. With Labor day and the like, I can at least get into it, knowing that there is a day off involved. Valentine's day has never been a favorite of mine - it might not even make the top ten holidays in my book. Up until meeting H (and before TiVo), the constant advertisements and love-hocking, kind of created a sense of guilt for being single. I combated this manufactured lonliness with lots of whiskey (not so important side note - I think I purposely set Valentine's day as the end date for one of my greatest benders - a girl and I broke up in January, 2002. I gave myself 30 days to get over it. Each day involved drinking. My good friend from law school called this the "best time of his life" - as he had a drinking buddy for an entire month straight. Needless to say "A Walk to Remember" with Shane West (I heart Shane West) was probably the best movie I saw that year(also, probably my nadir). By Valentine's Day, I no longer missed the girl, but, on the 15th of February, I kind of missed the drinking. Thats what a $120K private law school education gets you. Catharsis!!)

I digress...

Last year, H and I decided to ease up on the gift giving on Valentines Day (my main concern is that we set the bar pretty high the first year - complete with Justin Timberlake tickets), so we kind of put a price limit on it and then would split dinner. It worked pretty well and so, we determined to do the same this year. Naturally, we worked the wedding into the gift giving - and decided that we would buy each other vow journals in anticipation of writing our own vows. She was pretty easy - especially since she picked one out to get her. In turn, I received the exact vow journal I would pick out - simple, masculine and with lined pages, since blank pages freak me out. Well done sweetheart!

For dinner we decided on Powerhouse - which in 2007 was voted as one of the best new restuarants in the city. Again, this was in 2007. How the mighty have fallen. I have vacillated between not commenting on the restaurant and/or completely slagging Powerhouse. I am not the bigger man. What a nasty, horrible dining 'experience.' It wasn't the food (though H's whitefish wasn't "all the way" de-boned). The food was good enough. It was the complete and utter lack of service. Starting with the host (who was not at her stand - and would not be for another 5 minutes after we (and two other couples) arrived) through the bus staff (which there was none). Now, I get it - I am not one to really get critical of wait staff - I always tip no questions asked - but this was ridiculous. There was literally a pall over the entire restaurant. It was a shared experience amongst the diners. Everyone was annoyed - which, waiting 20 minutes for a drink list and some bread will do to you. After the comedy of the entire 'experience' set in, I finally relaxed and we enjoyed a nice, quiet time (aside from some woman's smoker's hack), which turned out to kind of highlight why H and I work so well - she definitely balanced me out that night and we took what could have been a disasterous night and made it fun, and even a little romantic, despite the circumstances -

Plus, we got to gorge ourselves on their free dessert. Which was nice.

Scoreboard

H has taken my earlier post about not asking her bridesmaids to be in the wedding as a call to arms. She has tied up the game. It is now 6-6. Although, I will have to put an asterisk Barry Bonds style, next to her score. She has been allowed performance enhancing cell phone use to tie this up - whereas, I have been asking everyone in person.

If I am laying odds, she may be favored to win this little game that I created and am the only one participating in.

UPDATE

Winner Winner Chicken Dinner. Despite enormous odds, I got mine before she got hers, so to speak. At 11:33 AM yesterday, I was able to secure the final groomsmen. I cheated a little and made a phone call. I justified this by looking at my schedule over the next 3 weeks and realized that it was now or never. H did not secure her last bridesmaid until almost 10 hours later (while I getting my mind blown by last night's episode of Lost). Congratulations to all those in the wedding party - we are honored and humbled that you agreed to be a part of what is a very special day for us. For everyone else - thank you for trying out.

On the Sidelines...

Something strange happened yesterday while we visited my Mom in the suburbs - I officially became marginalized in something in the process that is not dress related. Maybe marginalized is not the correct word, but rather, I became a follower, instead of a leader. We started on our save the date cards ("STDs" - seriously, this is what they call them in the industry) yesterday. With ideas from our planner and the help of the Mom, we have come up with a creative way of incorporating the venue into our STDs (I don't know if I like this - now there is a possibility that when an irresponsible frat boy googles "the clap" he is going to come up on this blog)(Note to frat boy - be responsible!!)(I digress). We were trying to determine lay-outs and colors and the whole shebang... and I was asked to go upstairs and work on copy. I would have no input into the colors, etc., of the STD. I shouldn't be surprised. This sort of thing, admittedly, is not my strongest suit. I would fail an art class right now. I would also be fired from my job if I was a graphic artist. Seemingly, my three brothers got some artsy gene. I got chip n' pepper jeans. I try to make things equal by being that annoying guy in the group project - I suggest a lot of things and hope that one of the smarter people in the group hears it and says "yes, that's brilliant!!" After three or four minutes, I sensed that the Mom was zoning me out. H followed suit shortly thereafter.

I imagine that this sounds like I may be bitter about this or that my feelings are hurt. I'm not and they're not. Not in the slightest. I know its for the best, since, the writing may be more suited to my strengths, but I also realized two valuable things. I have been looking forward to the day that H became excited about the process and the planning. It seems like she is now-She and the Mom were really into this project and that was good to see. Maybe it was the dress that kick started H into gear. Whatever it is, I am thankful for it. I have looked forward to this whole process as something that H and I can share and, in the last few months, it really feels that way (after a first calamitous month of the engagement - which eventually prompted working M - our planner - into our budget).

I think, too, that maybe the more important lesson that I learned is that I have to let go a little. I have suggested to H in the past, that it has been difficult for me to not be involved. Since I was SO involved in the initial planning, it has been difficult for me to take a step back in this process and let other people help or make decisions without me or my input. Like I said, I want to share this with H, and if I am serious about wanting this wedding to be something that we both look back upon as something we (+ M) put together, then I need to be willing to do so.

Peas and Carrots

This situation plays itself out at least once a month - H will go out with her girlfriends for a bite after work. She will promise that she will be home at a reasonable time. That she'll call if she is going to be late. That she is only going to have one, maybe two glasses of wine....

I know better.

Almost without fail, H doesn't call or text and comes home 4-5 hours later than originally anticipated, reeking of booze and red wine, drunk as a high school sophomore and bearing Mexican food (which is kind of endearing when you think that she truly believes that I want a sober burrito at 2 AM on a Wednesday - 4 hours after I went to bed)(yes, I go to bed at 10 PM).

I know exactly who to blame: H's bestie "Midge." Who is now H's Maid of Honor (that's 2 of 7 bridesmaids asked, if you're counting at home).

Midge has been around as long as H and I have been together. She was H's partner in crime the night we met - the falsetto to H's alto in their bar rendition of "Wind Beneath my Wings." She was H's sounding board and biggest cheerleader in the beginning of our relationship (the person who was on the receiving end of H's "Best.Date.Ever." text message) and has been a consistent positive influence in H's life since they met at work several years ago and a constant presence in our relationship.

If there was a"bestfriendfinder.com" which asked a series of questions and then gave you matches based on your answers, H and Midge would be 100% compatible BFFF. They watch movie awards shows together via text (H will not say a word for 2-3 hours while this is going on)(though, you will hear her snicker every couple of minutes). They are each other's de facto karaoke partners and the only person in the room that gets the punchline. I sometimes think that these two would make a fun variety show (kind of like if Jessica and Nick's Christmas special was clever and loud and filled with drunk on champagne singing). I would at least watch the first episode (I can't say the same for the new Rosie O'Donnell adventure).

We watched "Step-brothers" Sunday night. Its probable that this is how H and Midge became best friends-Not that they hated each other or hit each other with aluminum bats, but, rather, one day they got to talking and they realized that they have EVERYTHING in common. Its kind of endearing really. Nobody (not even me) makes H laugh like Midge does. And that's kind of the point. I am so thankful that H has a friend like this - someone that challenges her but is totally supportive of the decisions - whether bad or good - that H makes; someone who respects our relationship and instead of getting jealous, has got to know me and has let their relationship grow with me a part of the equation - too often, I think, friendships suffer when a person gets involved in a serious relationship. That hasn't happened here (I hope). Above all, I am thankful that H has someone she can always count on.

So, Midge - I know you're reading - here's to you. I am happy to know that you will be a part of our big day. Thank you for being a friend...

No strippers at the bachelorette party.

Its a Family Affair...

This past weekend was the 5th Annual "To Ale (House) and Back" Chicago Pub Crawl. Each year since H moved to Chicago, her family and their friends and loved ones meet in Chicago (in January) for an all out assault on restaurants and drinking establishments with the inevitable stop at the Old Town Ale House for lewd wall art and perhaps the city's best all-jazz jukebox. This pub crawl, after Christmas and Thanksgiving, is one of H's favorite events of the year. She gets so geared up for it and is crushed when the last person leaves.

Each successive year the pub crawl (which is coupled with a Friday night dinner and meet and greet) has grown larger in numbers. Last year, I was shocked when we reached twenty-strong. This year - we were looking at 30+. Aside from H and I, we had 6 other people staying at our house. Rather than go to the 'important' Chicago places (read: Tourist Traps), H's family likes to seek out the city's best dive bars or the bars with some history behind them (think Green Door, the Lodge, Billy Goat and Twin Anchors). Its one of the reasons I like them all so much. There are absolutely no pretensions with the group. Simply, they all love being together, having some drinks and having a good time - even if that means giving you (meaning me) a hard time. They're all characters with good hearts and a great ability to let their guards down and laugh at themselves - which is rare.

Admittedly, it has taken a little for me to get use to this. The first trip - about a month after H and I started dating (sweet side story - we decided to be 'bf/gf' this same weekend) - I was quieter. A lot of "yes sirs" and "no thank you's" This was the first time I met her mother, stepfather, aunt Mary and uncle Gene that I had heard so much about. I was so frightened that I wouldn't make a good impression. Within two minutes of me arriving at the Lodge, H's Aunt Mary circled around me, told me I had a great ass (I do), and then grabbed it (she did), I had no idea what to do - I think they all loved the shocked look on my face.

I come from a relatively small family. Its my brothers, Mom and I, plus three aunts, two uncles, and five cousins. It is a rare occasion that I see any of this family - most live in Pittsburgh (um, Go Steelers). It is a little different for me, then, to now have this huge family that love to get together, drink together and actually are committed to doing so at least once a year in such large numbers. Other than Christmas and Thanksgiving, when my brothers and I get absolutely loaded on whiskey and Stella Artois, we don't all get together to go out.

This weekend (as well as the preceding "To Ale (House) and Back" Pub Crawls) has made me look at family a different way and I think they have allowed me to appreciate my family in a little different way. Family can be and should be, friends. I look at the relationship my younger brother and I have cultivated over the last few years and I wonder whether this is somehow indirectly correlated with the comfort and ease that H and her family seem to have around each other. If it is, I am greatly indebted to them.

Sometimes when something embarrassing happens, H's Aunt Mary will turn to me and say "hey, its Family!!" And she's right, this is part of my family (and by extension, so is my own family - who have since joined in on these events) These are going to be my holidays for the rest of my life - large chaotic affairs accented by tons of laughter (and bud light), singing, dancing and great company.

I better get padded pants.