But I Will Find Him Sittin' On My Doorstep Waiting For The Surprise

How Shawn melts my brain and makes me love him simultaneously:

Example A

Hillary: We need to apply for a marriage licence this week.

Shawn: We don't have a marriage licence yet?

Hillary: Well have you applied for it?

Shawn: No.

Hillary: ...

Shawn: I thought you would have done it by now.

Hillary: *shooting evil death glare*

Shawn: Want to go for ice cream?

Example B

Last night Shawn informed me that he is planning a surprise for me. A wedding surprise. A surprise at the wedding. Does this seem like a bad idea to anyone else? Because I was all "you can't doooo this to me!" which I know seems really ungrateful but let me explain:

A: I do not love surprises under normal circumstances; under extremely emotional, potentially stressful circumstances, a surprise just seems like a bad idea.

B: I obsess over everything. By telling me 3 weeks in advance that he's planning a surprise, it's pretty much guaranteed that I will not stop thinking (or talking) about potential surprises for the next 3 weeks. This is bad for everyone involved.

C: I dream big. Since finding out about the surprise, I've already come up with the following:

-Shawn and my friends in England have coordinated a "we flew 9 hours to come to your wedding!" surprise
-Shawn has finally given in to my plea that Stella needs a baby brother and will present me with a brand! new! puppy!
-Shawn has finally convinced the rest of the band that they need to cover "Summer of '69" (because seriously - WHO REFUSES THE BRIDE'S SONG REQUEST??)

when really, the surprise is probably more along the lines of "hey! look! we got solid-coloured ties!"

That being said, is it not the sweetest thing that he's planning a surprise? Gah - he frustrates me beyond belief but he also manages to make me feel warm and fuzzy at the same time.

Three Or Four Hourglass

Three years ago, Angella started blogging - go say Congratulations! Leave a comment and you'll be in the running for some swag.

A Breath Of Zen That's Nice

Last week, Emily at Pantalones Del Feugo left me a comment on my 'dahlias are better than mums BECAUSE I SAID SO' rant:

"From having been a bride so recently, I can guarantee you that on the day of the wedding you will be having so much fun and be so overwhelmed by love and joy that the flower arrangements will be the furthest thing from your mind."

Emily = smart.

Before we started planning the wedding, if you asked me if I preferred dahlias or mums, I would have looked at you like you were a crazy person. Now I can't stop extolling the virtues of dahlias (they're so pretty and colourful and I LOVE THEM) when really, everything I say about them pertains to mums as well (pretty, colourful, ok maybe not the love part.) Who cares what kind of flowers I have? Do I actually care? Is this what's important? I'm driving myself crazy, stressing myself out, losing sleep over FLOWERS. I hate myself a little right now.

So I went to Emily's site and stalked her wedding posts. She looks so happy and so peaceful. Hers is the type of wedding I want. I want it to be relaxed and beautiful and I want everyone to have a good time. So I have 3 weeks to stop freaking out over the little stuff. If I want the wedding to be relaxed, I need to be relaxed.

Still You Rack 'em Up, Knock 'em Back, Line 'em Up, Put 'em Down

My brain is on strike right now. It is fed up with too many late nights and too many cocktails and too much heat (Kelowna? Is f-ing hot. Dear Kelowna, I hate you. Love Hillary.) Due to lack of brain power, this post will consist of many pictures and few words.

We stayed at a lovely resort on Lake Okanagan. There were 11 of us sharing a 3 bedroom suite (the only way we could afford to stay there.) It was a bit cozy but the massive patio more than made up for it.

Shawn enjoying the patio

The view from our room

K's wedding was beautiful. She looked gorgeous. There were a few snafus along the way (the marriage commissioner got 2 flat tires on the way to the ceremony - 2! - so it started an hour late) but at the end of the day K and L were married.

K & L sealing the deal

Here I am, expending far too much energy trying not to cry and willing my dress to stay up:

Which brings me to:

my boobies (or lack thereof.) Thanks for all your tips - the comments you guys left were hilarious. As a teenager I spent a lot of time being angsty about my lack of boobage; I'm so glad that I can laugh about it now. And laugh I did - you guys crack me up.

So last week I went out and bought some chicken fillets or "realistic silicone mini inserts" as they're called on the box. Unfortunately the realistic silicone mini inserts weren't quite enough so I had to buy a massively padded bra as well. Buying the realistic silicone mini inserts was funny. I was awkward, the saleslady who I had to ask for help was embarrassed, all in all it was pretty humorous. Buying the massively padded bra made me die a little inside. I don't know why, it just depressed me. It all turned out okay though - the chicken fillets, the padded bra AND double-sided tape kept my dress on all night. Though the double-sided tape + STUPID KELOWNA HEAT = rash. It's lovely. I have 4 rectangular rashes on my chest and back (which I will spare you photos of.)

The result:

I'm not exaggerating when I say that maybe 25% of that rack is actually mine. Perhaps a tad mortifying but good blog fodder, right?

One Backless Strapless Copper Thread Gown

I'm going to Kelowna for K's wedding this weekend. My dress? My bridesmaid dress? DOES NOT FIT. We ordered the dresses back in January. Since then, Stella has come into my life and my daily level of activity has shot way up and my ability to snack has decreased. This has resulted in some very satisfying weight loss. Unfortunately, when I lose weight I lose it in my upper body (read: boobs and belly.) The dress is strapless. I tried it on last night to see if a new strapless bra is required or if the one I've got will work with the dress. Turns out that what I require is some new boobies. New, bigger boobies. By Saturday. How else do you hold up a strapless dress? I've never worn a strapless dress before. Right now the dress sits halfway down my chest. It is unwearable. There is no stretch to the material (I have no idea what the fabric is - some sort of shiny bridesmaid dress fabric. In ice blue. I don't want to talk about it.) There's not enough time to get it altered by a real tailor, so my plan is to get my Mom to safety pin it (I cannot be trusted with pointy objects, especially if I'm trying to pin something I'm wearing at the time) and hope it doesn't look too silly. Another thought I had is to try the double-sided tape that fancy ladies use to tape their low-cut tops to their chests to preserve their modesty. Has anyone used this before? I don't even know where I would buy it. I leave in 3 days and this needs to be resolved before then or K will kick my ass.

Oooh, also? I am driving up without Shawn (he's flying up on Saturday to avoid all the rehearsal / last day craziness) which means that I get to listen to my music for 5 straight hours. I need some roadtrip music suggestions. It's got to be upbeat enough that I don't fall asleep (I'm leaving really early Friday morning) but not too upbeat (because I can't afford any speeding tickets.)

Lay All Your Love On Me

Stella doing what she does best (which is look adorable, if you haven't already guessed:)

I'll Wake Up In Strawberry Fields Every Day

Happy 4th of July! What better way to celebrate the birthday of the United States than to tell you about my Canada Day. Canada Day was on a Tuesday this year, which would have been great had my boss decided to be generous and close the office on Monday. He did not decide to be generous, however, so I had to work on Monday and then had Tuesday off.

It doesn't feel like summer until the strawberries are out. The local berries were late this year because of our rainy spring but this week I managed to score myself some.

Local strawberries = strawberry jam!

First I smashed them up:

Then I added a ridiculous amount of sugar:

Then I cooked it until it got nice and bubbly:

Then I poured it into these cute little jars:

Then I boiled them so no-one at the wedding gets botulism:

(everyone knows that a wedding that includes botulism = Worst Wedding Ever!)

The end result:

I think (knock on wood) that I am finished making jam. At this point we have 121 little jars of jam for the wedding favours. We have less than 121 guests so I think we're in good shape. Unless something catastrophic happens to the jam and the seals break, I won't have to make any more jam this year (unless I want to.)

It turns out that I am not the only fan of local strawberries.

I love the staring contest she is having with the strawberry. She's totally winning.

It's mandatory to make strawberry shortcake with the first batch of local strawberries. I don't make the rules, I just follow them.

After all our strawberry fun, I took Stella to my parents' house. She loves running around in the yard with Toby. Toby is afraid of cameras but I managed to snap one picture while he was preoccupied (my Dad was on the other side of the gate, about to come into the yard.)

Toby is a black lab German Shepard cross. He is a big dog. Stella doesn't care (actually, she probably doesn't realize) that she is so much smaller than he is. She jumps all over him and tries to get him to chase her around the yard. Toby is turning 11 years old this year so there isn't much chasing going on. That doesn't prevent Stella from trying to provoke him every 30 seconds though. Poor old Toby is very patient with her and just tries to ignore her.

Stella has a giant tongue. And yes, that is dirt on it.

I couldn't stop laughing as I snapped this photo.

Stella does not appreciate being laughed at.

Right, so just to round out this completely random, photo-filled post, here is a picture of some flowers I bought yesterday. I bought them from a street-vendor for $10. Beautiful, right? This will be my back-up for when my aunt shows up with mums. Not these specific flowers, but the street-vendor. I will out-manipulate the manipulator. Hopefully.