I'm still alive, I swear. But it's not like my 10 glorious followers are sitting in front of their computers, like, "OMG WHAT IS SHE UP TO?!" I mean, I like to think one of you 10 lovely readers misses me, but reality says you probably didn't notice I was gone.

ANYWAYS.

After three weeks of working 5 straight days (horrible, I know), I should be back to my almost-normal schedule now. Except, my boss wants to take away my free Thursdays, and make me work. Effective immediately. Yay moneys! BOO no sleeping in!

Oh, and that's yet another day I won't have to work on wedding stuff. And we're 7 weeks away from the Big Day. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't freaking out about this.

Friday night was spent starting on veil construction. Oh yes, I'm making my own veil. Because I'm completely insane. Actually, it's because my step-dad's sister bailed on making a veil for me, and the prices people charge for these things is completely insane. $200 for some fluffy shit and sequins? I don't think so. I have hands and free time and hot glue... I can do this for cheap!

So after 30 tense minutes of wandering around Joann's in search of the right supplies... I came home with $29 worth of tulle, fishing line, and hair combs. I didn't get the sparkley rhinestones... Yet. If I can assemble the veil without it looking ghetto, then I'll tackle sparkles. I know I'm good at sparkles.

I searched the internets for the best tutorials, only to find that there are none. Well, there are tutorials, but they suck. I think tulle is just really hard to capture on video. It's like Bigfoot or Nessie or the Chupacabra. It's elusive. And I don't think there's one universal method to veil-making. So I kind of had to watch some videos, use my brain, and just go fot it.

Luckily, I bought like, 7 yards of tulle. That's like, 189 square feet of elusive fluffy crap. Which looks like a ghostly aparition when it's bunched up on your couch and you've had a few glasses of wine. But yeah, I had enough extra tulle to experiment.

Did I mention Skip hates tulle? Because he spent like a solid hour sitting on the couch yelling, "I F%$#ING HATE TULLE! OMG! IT'S ITCHY! GET IT OFF MEEEE!" And I was yelling back, "STOP MOVING! YOU'RE GOING TO SCARE THE GHOST AWAYYYYY!"

So attempt numero-uno was a bust.

But the second attempt was mostly a success. I think if I glue on some sparkly stuff, no one will notice my terrible fishing line sewing skills. But I'll need to do that sober, because hot glue is (duh) hot. And tulle is (duh) elusive. I don't need an ER visit in my life right now.

What I do need in my life is glorious wedding shoes. And Skip needs 3 inches of height in his life, so I don't look like a giant standing next to him at the altar. Seriously. Dillards had super glorious sparkletastic wedding shoes, but they would've made me look like an Amazonian queen. Which would be great, if Skip wasn't vertically challenged. Well, he's not challenged... He's just not gifted. We're like, the same height. So he's freakishly tall, but not tall enough that I can wear glorious heels.

So the other insane thing I'm doing this weekend... Is taking Skip out to help me find wedding shoes. Basically, I just need him there as a reference piece. So I can stand next to him and be like, "Yep, you're still short. These shoes are out." Or "ZOMG THESE ARE THE SHOES." Skip will probably hate this process, but it needs to happen. I can't keep buying and returning shoes like a crazy person because they're too tall.

That's all that's really going on right now... Well, there's probably other stuff, too, but nothing really interesting.

I promise I'll try to update this more frequently. For reals, this time!

Ghosts, goblins, and sparkles,

Someone, please, do me a favor...

PLEASE, for the love of God and all that is Holy... Call my future mother-in-law, and explain to her that I can't answer her calls while I'm working. And please remind her that I work Monday-Wednesday-Friday, from 8am-4:30pm. And let her know that when she calls me on a Wednesday, at 2:11pm, I'm not avoiding her call because I'm mean or something, but I'm actually working.

Every time someone calls me at work, and I pick up the phone... Someone walks into my office. It's like clockwork. Answer phone, get glared at by an impatient person. Never fails.

The same thing happens when I try to go pee at work. Close bathroom door, and a line of 56 people gathers outside my office.

Oh, and someone please come eat all this candy that's sitting on my desk. If I eat one more piece, I'm going to turn into a Kit-Kat bar.

kthxbai.

Brain vs. Heart vs. Body

Running is hard.

I know I've said that about fifty bajillion times, but I'm serious. It's hard. Finding the motivation to hit the pavement is hard. Pushing through pain, sweat, and heat is hard. Thinking about your feet, legs, arms, head, posture, breathing, pace, and keeping an eye on the trail... All at the same time... Is hard.

But no one said this would be easy.

Becoming a runner isn't going to happen overnight... Not for me, anyways. Some people can lace up their sneakers and hit the trail like they were born to do it. Not this girl. Running, like losing weight, is one of those things I'm just going to have to chip away at one tiny bit at a time. I didn't lose 23 pounds overnight, and I'm not going to run a mile that way, either.

Since re-dedicating myself to this journey, I've decided that I should try to sign up for a race. I need something to motivate me, and keep me going... Something to look forward to accomplishing. The trouble is, I'm afraid of that committment. What if I sign up, and I'm not ready by race day? What if my shin pain gets worse, and I have to take time off? What if I sign up for a big race, and then bomb on race day?

Most of this is mental stuff. The phrase "what if" seriously should be banned from my vocabulary.

I'm fearful of signing up for something too soon, and not having enough time to adequately prepare. I'm like, the definition of a beginner. Be-gin-ner. Period. So if I sign up for a race in September, will I be ready? My logical side says probably not. Even if I trained everysingleday, I probably wouldn't survive a September race. How about October? Well... Scratch off most of that month, since we'll either be up to our necks in wedding preparations, or we'll be in Florida getting married. November? Julie's wedding.

This is where I have stupid, stupid thoughts.

I found a race I really, really want to do. It's for a cause that is close to my heart. It's a 5k. It's in November. It's two days after Julie's wedding.

Julie's wedding takes place on Friday evening... I fly out of Ft. Myers at like, 6am Saturday morning. (Possibly hungover from the festivities. Yikes.) This race takes place at like, 8am Sunday morning. And then I go back to work on Monday.

The cause is for lung cancer... Some of you, my dear followers, know that I lost both my grandparents to lung cancer. This cause is so close to my heart, and running this race would mean the world to me. But, failing at this race would be really awful. And as busy as my schedule is, and knowing how far I have to go until I can run a 5k... My better judgment says I shouldn't do this.

...But I really want to.

What would you do in this situation? Advice? Thoughts? Encouragement? I'm really torn on this one. I need a race to train for, but I don't want my first race to be such an important one... Because I might fail.

Decisions, decisions.

Friday Fail.

I think that's what I'll start calling my weekly Friday entries. Fabulous Friday Failures. Catchy, no?

So, once again, it's almost quittin' time here on the ranch, and I'm scrambling to throw together a blog post. I've been busy at work today (Seriously! I have! Stop laughing!), so I've barely had time to do my work, let alone think of something to blog about.

Milo is doing swell, though he's still cranky and sore and peeing lots of blood. The blood is normal, and the cranky 'tude is to be expected. I'd probably be a grouch too, if someone cut me open and pulled rocks out of my bladder. He's definitely perked up a lot the last couple days, so that's a good sign. I've gotten cuddles and tail wags and some begging for food... So he's almost back to normal.

Oh, and they made him wear the Cone of Shame... Because he wouldn't stop licking his manly area, and it was all red and irritated. The stitches were fine, but everything else (yes, *everything*) looked like it was covered with a giant hickey. So Conehead he is, and giggly is momma. I seriously can't stop laughing at him in the cone. I feel terrible, but it's hilarious. He walks into things, he has trouble getting up and down stairs... And he gives me this pathetic, "Oh God WHY" face when I make him wear it. It makes me giggle, in a sad, "Mommy's Sorry" kind of way.

At least he only has to wear it when I'm not watching him like a hawk.

We're off to visit Skip's family in St. Louis this weekend... Should be a fun weekend. A hot, sweltering, melt-your-face-off weekend... But fun! I'm baking 3 desserts tomorrow morning before we go to a barbecue with his dad... So I need to get up and get my game face on in the morning. Woo.

Other than all that... Nothing is new. Wedding plans are still moving along, we're still broke, and I'm still insane.

4:10! Time to go finish my paperwork and GO HOME! YAY!

--Malaya

Running is hard.

DUH.

I knew this. I've always known this. So WHY WHY WHY do I think that I should be able to hop on the trail and run like it's the only thing my chubby legs have ever wanted to do?!

Probably because I'm stupid.

I logged about 2 miles of walking/sprinting today... Mostly walking, with a little sprinting. I must admit that my new, fitted-to-me running shoes are pretty much awesome. Like, glitter and unicorn farts awesome. I don't get crippling cramps, my feet don't hurt, and so far... No knee pain! WHAT?! YES! No knee pain. That's a first.

However... I think my body is engineered wrong for running. Seriously, I do. I find myself thinking about what my feet and ankles are doing... And man, they do some weird shit when I run. My feet don't land right... I don't feel like my stride is normal at all. My feet strike the ground at a weird spot... Not really my heel, but not the arch either. Skip makes fun of the way I run on the regular... He's like, "You run loud." Thanks, dude. Appreciate the observation.

But yea. My feet an' junk... They just don't do what they're probably supposed to do. So I spend most of the time I'm walking/running/flailing trying to figure out WTF my feet are doing. And I try to focus on planting my feet "correctly"... Which feels weird, and probably hinders any kind of progress. But nothing feels right. I'm not a runner... I'm a wanna-be.

I've also decided that Gatorade is God's gift to me, and it makes my walks/runs more bearable. Seriously. I drank the stuff on the walk where I killed my phone, and it was like, the easiest most wonderful walk ever. Yeah, like, glitter and unicorn farts. So now I don't go without my Gatorade... And so far, every walk since that one as been amazing. Maybe it's just the clever marketing, but I seriously believe it. Although, I'd probably drink dog pee if someone told me it would turn me into an athlete. IJS.

Wedding planning is chugging along like the Little Engine That's Sucking Up My Money Could. I've got a phone consultation set up with the cupcake (!!!) baker, a tentative appointment with a dress shop to press my dress for cheap once I get down there, and a list of websites where I can order all kinds of stuff I need on the cheap. Cheers to that! I have about 18 more phone calls to make, and clearly I'm making good use of my time by blogging about it.

Procrastination at it's best.

Milo is doing well, besides having "rocks in his weiner", as Skip says. They're not actually in his weiner... They're in his bladder. If they move to the weiner, that's bad news bears. Anyways, he's a happy little pup, and is totally soaking up all the love and attention and extra crap he gets to eat because he's "sick." Which basically consists of various different things I can hide his antibiotics in, because the vet thought it would be a good idea to give him horse pills. They're enormous, and Milo likes to spit them out like a jerk.

Roxy is a little jealous, but seriously when is she not? I've promised her a "mommy-daughter day" on Tuesday while he's in surgery... We're going to get her nails clipped. She is going to flip her shit. Sorry, little lady. Your nails are 18 feet long, and I don't own a muzzle and a straight jacket to keep you from biting my face off. That's why I pay the groomer $15 to do it for me.

We're also gonna go get ice cream. Mostly because I want ice cream.

Okay, I really need to cut this off right now, and get something accomplished today. The house is a mess, I have people to call, and blogging isn't gonna get shit done.

PEACE.

--Malaya

Where were you two years ago?!

Skip texted me just now to tell me he turned down a job offer.

An old supervisor called and offered him a job as a Party Chief (translation: guy-in-charge) for a pipeline surveying company in Illinois. He would've had his own company truck, and lots of other cool perks.

They didn't even get to the part about the money.

Skip told him he wasn't interested. He told the guy that he was done traveling, and was happy where he is here in Kansas City (with his hot wife-to-be).

Skip also told me his uncle let him know that he has work for him, if things slow down here in KCMO.

Where the hell was all this job security 2 years ago?! Where were all these offers of steady work when we needed them? Skip spent 2+ years working for a few months, then getting laid off indefinitely. Now that we have a stable, settled-down life, he has job offers out the wah-zoo. What gives, universe?!

I guess I shouldn't complain... My husband-to-be is so awesome, he has his past employers calling and throwing work at him. Even past employers that didn't like him very much. Hah. I'm proud of him... He loves what he does, and he does it well. It's taken us a long time to get to where we are now, and I only see things getting better from here on out.

--Malaya

Friday Five?

I've seen other bloggers do similar posts... Five For Friday, Friday Five, Friday Fast Five... And other alliterations. I'm thinking I should do something like this, perhaps to encourage me to blog more regularly? No? Since I now have nine (!) followers, I'll let you decide what I should title this series. Also, feel free to contribute other fun Day-of-the-Week things I could post. I seriously need motivation.

FIVE THINGS FOR FRIDAY
(Or whatever)

1. My phone has been repaired! Halleluja! I'm back to my normal excessive texting/talking/emailing/facebookingatwork. Seriously, that phone is like, lifeline. I often find myself trying to remember the days before my iPhone... And it kind of frightens me. How the hell did I function without Words With Friends? How did I stay updated on peoples' lives without Facebook in my pocket? HOW DID I TEXT WITH OUT A COMPLETE TOUCH-SCREEN KEYBOARD?! Seriously. No. Idea.
2. After a seriously bad (but delicious) food binge last weekend, my weigh-in for this week only showed a 0.2 gain. HOLY CRAP. Insanity! After eating Five Guys TWICE, BBQ, IHOP, and 54th Street, and the Taco Bell that Skip fed me last night while holding a gun to my head, I am seriously amazed that the scale did not reflect a 58 pound gain. I want to credit the 2.26 miles I walked yesterday with this miracle, but I'm still mad about the phone thing. That walk is not a happy time anymore.
3. I miss cats. Like, seriously. If I could forget that I ever had dogs, and go back to cats, I would. I got to cuddle 2 ridiculously adooooorable kitty-cats at the Phone Screen Repairman's house... And I was suddenly jones-ing for a feline in our house. But Skip is totally allergic, and he'd probably kick me (and the cat) out faster than you can say hippopotamous. But cats are all cute and fluffy and quiet... I miss cats.
4. Doctors really shouldn't have bank accounts... Because they seriously don't know what they're doing with their money. If your account was -$110 as of this past Saturday, and you keep paying bills and making transactions out of it... Trying to make a deposit at 5AM today (when I'm not even F&$#!@% here), is not going to keep you from getting charged overdraft fees. You're an idiot. Brain surgeon you may be, but smart person, you are not.
5. I've just started using Moroccan Oil on my hair... And I'm not sure how I feel about it. I've been in a hair rut as of late, so I'm really trying any and every new product I can get my mitts on. I just feel like my hair is a lifeless ball of yuck. Frizzy, dry-looking, dull, coarse... It's either way poofy or way greasy. It looks like crap in a ponytail, and it looks like crap down. Clips don't stay, barettes are a joke, and bobby pins just don't stay put. I'm itching for a new cut, but told myself I wanted long locks for the wedding... So it has to stay. The Moroccan Oil keeps my hair soft and shiny and (mostly) frizz-free, but I feel like it's borderline greasy. Like, I don't think I could go 2 days without washing my hair. Ew. Please just let me shave my head and start over.

That was probably longer than it was supposed to be. And probably boring. Sorry, followers. I'll do better next week!

NAME MY THING! Fun alliterations get bonus points!

--Malaya