I think I'm turning Japanese

Got this in my email today:

ホテル ヴィラ フォンテー

It's part of the email address of our hotel in Tokyo. Better brush up on my Japanese.

Konichiwa?

Good News!

In between being crazy and ranty, I've been BUSY! Here's some HAPPY news:

• We've finished painting the guest room, and instead of painting all four walls, we've decided to put up some grass cloth on one wall...its going to be a sweet sanctuary in there. And tonight Steve put in two new recessed ceiling lights. He learned how to wire them, cut out holes in the ceiling, and put in a dimmer. He is the most awesome guy on earth!!
• I'm getting my dress altered in LA this weekend and squeezing in some girl time with three of my maids!
• We officially booked our trip to Japan. 7 days and 8 nights in Roppongi, Tokyo! Woot woot!
• I've been going to the gym three nights a week for the past two months and I am getting seriously ripped. Watch out!
• Steve's parents were here last weekend and they helped us clean up the yard a bit. It looks gorgeous after the rain. We also planted 200 succulents for the wedding!! The best thing about Steve's parents coming is that they bring us a TON of home-made goodies. My favorite is Zucchini Chocolate bread. Sounds weird, but it is HEAVEN. Steve's step-dad even made me a gorgeous cobalt blue cake stand and a scrap jar for the compost bin.
• We're painting the office next: ORANGE!

Before and after pictures of our guest room to come soon!

Mr. Monk

Have you ever watched the TV show, Monk? I'd never heard of it until recently, but it's about this detective who helps solve crimes, but the focus is mostly on his quirky personality and severe OCD. We get a giggle out of crazy Mr. Monk because he freaks out about things like germs, personal contact, crossing the street, stepping on cracks, getting his hands dirty, not shutting drawers all the way, you get the idea...

So we laugh and poke fun at Mr. Monk and his silly behavior, but the other night it struck me...I AM BECOMING MR. MONK! I am dead serious. It's getting worse over time, and only recently have I really noticed my problem. I used to be so much more laid back about my living space...messy room, messy kitchen, dirty dishes, chung in the bathroom sink. And I'd get to it when I got to it. I don't know whether it is the fact that I own my home or have some nicer things now, a dangerous combination of both, or even a little hypochondria sneaking in there, but I am getting nuttier and nuttier and must protect MY STUFF as if it is my sole purpose on this earth. You're right, this sounds like a GOOD thing, but I go overboard, and I don't know how to control these new emotions.

I used to let crumbs fall on the kitchen floor, and Steve would finally sweep and mop when he couldn't stand my mess anymore. Now, if there is one crumb on the floor, especially AFTER I've just swept, I go into freak-out mode! Freak-out mode looks something like me slouched down on the floor mumbling, "I can't do it anymore!!!" with tears streaming down my face. How DARE that crumb fall on the floor! How RUDE of that crumb! And what awful person let it happen?! Usually ME! If it is someone else I WILL get over it...and most likely I will quietly get the broom and sweep it up. But if I ignore it, I can't stop thinking about it. It's poor Steve that I am worried about...oh man, my blood just boils when I see that dirt speck or grass blade or a goat head in the laundry room.

I am probably scaring you now, but don't worry, I am also probably exaggerating a bit. But I have to get this message across! And my message is this: I NEED HELP! I can't even enjoy a tv show while steve is using my new lap top because I spend the whole time worrying that he is getting it dirty with his manly outdoor hands. And I even worry for Steve's health when he lays on the living room floor if I haven't vacuumed in a few days. And I have a REALLY nice white blanket that I love with my whole being. But, can anyone else cuddle with it? They CAN, but it tortures me! Not because I don't want them to snuggle down in all of its wonder, but I imagine all of the possible grime and grit that will be on it after they are done. What happens if they sneeze on it!? Or accidentally spill a crumb on it!? Oh my god, I drive myself crazy. I do not like feeling this way. AT ALL. I want my best friends and family to enjoy my STUFF. So what do I do?!

I can't let dishes go unwashed for more than a couple of hours after a meal. I can't let the clean dishes stay in the dishwasher very long - it must be emptied as soon as possible! I can't mix my laundry - jeans with jeans, whites with whites, darks with darks, heavy with heavy, and on and on and on. I can't eat if I don't have a napkin nearby. I can't use a sponge after it has a HINT of moldy sponge smell. I can't cook dinner until the kitchen is clean. Am I crazy or is this all normal? Steve gets irritated by my nonsensical behavior sometimes, and I don't blame him at all...but he also said maybe it's a good thing that I want things to stay nice and last a long time. I see both sides, but I am about to commit myself to the crazy-house.

I do like the feeling of really taking care of things that I've worked hard to get, but I don't want my life to revolve around this stuff. I want to just be happy and not care and stress about stupid things. And, it's funny, because there are other things that I do not care about one single tiny bit. Okay, maybe a little. Like, washing my car, hanging up my clothes after I wear them, making the bed, dusting, cleaning the stove...so why do I obsess over something like touching my blanket?! I'll probably get over it sooner or later, but if anyone has any experience with Crazies, please let me know!

Oh, and Mom, remember in Elementary School when I had to go to that "Nonsense Class" - or did you even know about that? Well, I remember something about going to a Nonsense Class where I had to watch silly videos about animals doing and saying nonsensical things. I don't know if I had to go to this because I said a lot of nonsense in school? Or was it because I had a vivid imagination? Do you remember this, Mom? Maybe this will help me figure out why I am so nutty.

Forever Young

I totally understand getting carded for purchasing alcohol. I have my ID out and ready any time I am within two feet of alcohol. I even get a little bit of joy out of people's reactions once they grab my ID and quickly calculate my real age, which is usually followed by a "wow!" But I do find it annoying when Steve buys alcohol and they won't even let me grab the bag unless I show my ID. I love coming through the aisle with a case of Bud Light and a few bottles of wine. The other customers always look at me like I am crazy for trying such a stunt. I also think its funny when we are at a restaurant and they ask Steve for his ID after looking at mine. Come on people, if I am over 21, Mr. Gray Beard has GOT to be.

But do you want to know what really burns my biscuits? Carding me for buying NYQUIL! Is this lady really going to make me sniffle through my purse to find my wretched ID to prove to her that I am over the age of 18. EIGHTEEN! I was 18 nine years ago! Then she says, "Oh my! Well, you will love it when you are older!" So freaking sick of hearing that phrase. Honestly, it doesn't do anything for me.

Drip Drip

While Helya was here a few weeks ago, I decided we were in dire need of pampering and stress relief, so we went to Sycamore Mineral Springs for a soak in the hot tub and a one-hour massage. Unfortunately for me, I started feeling sick that day so I popped a bunch of DayQuil and stuffed my robe full of tissues. So there I was, robe-less and face down on a table with my arms pinned down by my sides underneath several layers of sheets while my precious kleenex were hidden away deep inside my robe across the room. For the first 10 minutes of the massage I was feeling great - relaxed, calm and peaceful. That's when the DayQuil started to wear off and my nose started to run. It wasn't a steady stream of snot where you have to wipe your nose every second, but it was the excruciating kind of runny nose - a tickly stubborn dribble that shakes hands with every single nose hair.

Now, instead of enjoying my massage, I could only concentrate on how to avoid dripping on the masseuse's shoe underneath me. How embarrasing would that be if all of a sudden, SPLAT! an AUDIBLE booger droplet landed on her shoe and she had to wipe it off mid-massage!? Would she even continue with the massage? I wouldn't if I were her. So I HAD to improvise. I moved my face just enough to the side so that I got a little wipe on the sheet covering face rest. I had to do this three times over about 10 minutes and she must have noticed because she asked if my head position was uncomfortable. I lied and told her no! I just had a hair in my face. She bought it! Luckily, for the second half of the massage I was face up so now gravity was in my favor. But ew. Boogs in the throat wasn't any better.

Advice: If you have are feeling ill, and you have a massage appointment, stuff your nostrils with tissue before you lie down. There's nothing worse than paying good money to worry about snot.

Four Months Until "I Do"!!

January has been a good month for wedding planning. I've checked a lot of things off of my to-do list and still going!! It has been really difficult to make some decisions, but I am trying to keep the mood light and not get too overwhelmed. Thanks to an amazing weekend with my maid of honor, complete with yummy food, a massage and hot tubbing, I am refreshed and ready to get on with planning the details for the day and all of the events leading up to it!

We have most of our vendors booked:

• Venue - Edna Valley Vineyard
• Caterer - Anacapa BBQ Company
• Photographer - Applemoon Photography
• DJ - Brian from AVS
• Florist - Adornments
• Baker - Christine's Cake Creations

And some other fun things:

• Picked up Steve's ring!
• Helya has started planning the Bachelorette Party
• I got some lovely little flats for dancing at the reception
• My mom is coming this weekend and we're going to start working on our centerpieces - twine covered wine bottles. You'll have to wait and see the finished product!
• The next phase of the invitations should be ready this weekend and then hopefully we can start printing and assembling!
• Steve gets fitted for his suit on Friday
• We're ordering the favors this week - time to start nourishing our living gifts!
• My mom and I are meeting with the coordinator at Edna this week to discuss details about tenting, tables, linens, lighting, and on and on and on....
• We're also going to meet with the baker to pick out cupcake flavors and decor
• At the end of February I'm going to get my dress altered - but it's a big secret what it will look like in the end! :)

Are you sick of hearing about my wedding yet?! ;)

Stormy McStormerson

A huge storm is hitting the central coast this week. But last week we had a storm that brought in such big surf that we could hear the roaring of the waves from our house! Our house that is 7 miles from the shore. SEVEN MILES. Steve usually can't even hear me call his name from our front door to the edge of the driveway. But we could hear WATER from 7 miles away! So at 11pm on Wednesday night we donned our rain gear and drove down to the Pismo Beach pier to see the action for ourselves.

Now let me take a moment to explain something about myself. I don't have nightmares very often, but 95% of my nightmares include a body of water, giant waves, and sea creatures all crashing together to form The End of the World! This is probably the reason why I've never been on a cruise, I freak out snorkeling in 3 foot waters, and I swim only in water where I can see my own feet. It could also possibly be the reason why I CRIED while we were at the pier on that Wednesday night.

Yes. I CRIED. I blubbered and squealed and covered my eyes. And while we were standing at the edge of that wooden pier, beyond the edge of the Earth, looking out over the creaky railing into the blackness of the black ocean on the blackest night of my life, a ginormous black wave would sneak up on us and BOOM! smash into the weary legs of the pier causing the entire structure to shake and rumble. At first I was okay. As we began our descent down the pier the waves didn't seem very scary. There was lots of pointing and Wowing and Oohing and Aahing, but no crying. It was the dark emptiness beyond the tip top of the pier that really struck me.

The waves became a surprise. Would the next one be tiny and would we just laugh at it? Or would the next one come up and over the pier and wash us away? Or maybe it would make the pier crumble and fall into the ocean. Then we'd definitely be eaten by sharks or strangled by Octopi or both at the same time! All of these thoughts went rampant through my mind and then, you will never believe it, but my head spinned 360 degrees three times after only 10 seconds of looking into the evil soul of those waves. I kid thee not.

That's when I sprang back, looked at Steve who was leaning his entire body as far over the railing as he possibly could in order to get a closer look at the beast below. And I lost it. Tears gushed from my face. I pictured him being swept away by a tsunami-sized wave while I witnessed his death, helpless, cold, and alone. I imagined us hand-in-hand, flailing down the pier towards the shore, trying to outrun the Wave of Death, but no no no, there's no way to outrun the Wave of Death! It would tease us by tickling our heels and then it would hurl itself at our backs, and of course we'd trip and fall and get tossed around by the monster and we'd struggle to find each other under the blackness of the icy water - if we were going to die, we were going to die together!

So that is why I cried. I begged Steve to step away from the railing and go back to the car ASAP. But, as we were 3/4 of the way back down the pier towards safety, I looked up at his wide-eyed wet face, smiled, and said, "That was fun! Let's do it again!" This time, I didn't shed a single tear.