This one is to tide you over...








Cherry Cordial: A whole cherry immersed in sweet liquid fondant in a deep dark chocolate shell.

I love chocolate covered cherries. Love them. Lovethemlovethemlovethem. There is something wonderful about biting through a thick dark chocolate bubble and into a cherry. You have to be careful, though, not to spill the liquidy stuff on you. Normally, I'm just fine with the Wal-Mart "Queen Anne Cherries", but one from Godiva is so good it should be illegal. No, not illegal, immoral. God forgives faster than U.S. law inforcement.

Picture Post!

I haven't had much of a chance to post these, but here are a couple of pictures I took from Texas and New Orleans! Enjoy! Don't worry, none of them are of my feet! : )








Brandon's Hand
Conroe, TX









Cathedral Fence
New Orleans, LA













French Quarter
New Orleans, LA

Coconut Pyramid: Coconut macaroon and creamy coconut fondant within deep dark chocolate.

Oh, my. Oh.....my. OH, my. Oh.....................................................................my.

10 out of 10.

RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING

1) You know what one of the suckiest things about taking Zoloft is? Well, besides all of the bad side effects, anyway. When you are sad about something, you pretty much have to face the fact that it isn't a chemical thing and then you have to figure out how to make it go away. Pills don't make real sad go away. Yes, I had to start taking them again a few weeks ago and they still suck. However, I'm gradually getting it back into my system, so I don't fall over anymore at least. There is always a silver lining!

2) God bless the clothing designer who decided that smock tops should be in style. They may look like maternity clothes, but they are so freaking comfortable that I no longer care.

3) Ed scared the daylights out of me yesterday. I was listening to another Stephen King novel while I was working on the seemingly never-ending garbage can stickers (they need 220 of them and I'm only up to 119) and he walked up beside me. Since I had my earphones on, I didn't hear him and didn't think to look around until he was right next to me. I almost got him with the exacto knife!

4) My dad wouldn't tell me what he wanted for father's day, so I got him a case of Ginger Ale! Not just any ginger ale, but Buffalo Rock ginger ale. Don't worry, it wasn't just a random thing, he had never tried it, but said he liked that kind of thing. I told him if he didn't tell me something, that I'd get him something strange. He thought it was strange, all right, but he has enjoyed it. He's always been like that, though. He never wants anything and always says he doesn't need anything. Why is it that people like that are the ones you always still want to make a fuss over? I dunno.

5) I went shopping yesterday for my graduation gift to myself. A few weeks ago, I had the idea of going to a day spa and that was going to be the gift I got for myself. However, even though I got some good advice from people who had gone before and liked it, I just couldn't do it. I even got as far as calling the place to make my appointment, but I started thinking that it was an embarrassing amount of money to pay to have someone paint my toenails and rub mud on me. I can do that myself! heeheehee. So I went out to find a piece of jewelry. I didn't want a class ring because they are simply not attractive, and I'm so picky about jewelry anyways. I wanted something really nice that I could always have and eventually pass on. I wanted a sapphire ring, but it's almost impossible to find a sapphire that wasn't lab created (that I can afford, anyways.) I finally found one and it was perfect! All three of my favorites, white gold, natural blue sapphire and diamonds. It was very simple, bezel set, and is probably the kind of ring I'd make myself if I knew how to do metalworking. I even tried it on, and the store sample fit perfectly and the price was just right. Did I buy it? Nope. Now I feel weird about spending my graduation money on jewelry! What is wrong with me? When I don't have money, I find a million things I want, but when I do have money I can't make myself spend it. Oy. I'm going to think about it over the next couple of weeks. If I still want it then, I'm going for it! Maybe...

Raspberry Caramel Duet: Tart raspberry caramel layered over rich caramel, enrobed in dark chocolate.

GGGGGGGGGllarrrrrrrrrrbbbbbbbbbbbbbblllllllllllllll.

We interrupt this YCOTD post to inform you that Kelly has lost all muscle control and the ability to form words has escaped her. The word above is the approximation of the last sound she made before falling into a coma-like state of bliss. I would assume that means she liked it. Liked it a lot. A whole lot.

Wait, she's holding out some fingers....nine of them. Yes, she gives this piece a 9 out of 10.

EDIT: Whew...I'm back on my feet. Oh, dear Pete, that was soooooo yummy. It was a perfect blend of tart berries and buttery caramel and then the chocolate. Oh, the chocolate... I am not catholic, but that was so sinfully good I may have to go to confession.

It's back! Aren't you excited? I know you must be.

I'm going to just have to say "screw it" about taking my own pictures of the chocolate. I keep eating them and then remembering that I should have taken the pictures first. So I'm going to rip them off from the official web site. Plus, of course, their pictures are better than my own anyways!





Macadamia Mosaic : Chocolate hazelnut praline teeming with macadamia chunks enveloped in milk chocolate.

Normally, I'm not that fond of Macadamia nuts. No offense to my Hawaiian buddies out there or anything. It isn't that they taste bad, but I don't like the oily way they feel. However, the macadamia nuts in this piece of chocolate were all crumbled on top of and within the center of it. So, it took the oily feeling away and just had the yumminess of the praline and the Macadamia nuts together. It was like a luau in my mouth.

Aloooooooooha! 8 out of 10.

I was just about to start my usual WEEKEND UPDATE, but then I realized a very painful truth. Sometimes there are aspects of my life so trivial that it would just be embarrassing to write about it all. I mean, I'm not that interesting really, so were I to set down details of what I ate and how much laundry I did (or did not) do, I'd begin to feel as if I were piercing you fine people with red hot needles. That is an activity I would shun except under the most dire circumstances.

However, all is not lost, my darlings. I will write about my Saturday which was more active than normal for me! For some reason I woke up at 5:30 am. This early rising nonsense has been happening to me for the past few weeks. The one freaking day I am allowed to sleep in relativly late, and my body says "Nope, that's all the sleep you get, princess. Outta bed!" So, I got outta bed. In my house, there is very little I can do that will not make the kinds of noises that cause Steve to rush out of the bedroom brandishing the iron pipe. Because he is bigger than me, and tends to not only scare easliy but accidentally hurt me (because he forgets how big of a dude he is) if he is startled, I try not to do anything to provoke that type of reaction if I can help it. So I spent the better part of the morning looking around on the internet. I was just getting sleepy again when Steve woke up and reminded me that we had things to do that needed to get done. I had decided that I didn't want to do anything but go back to sleep, but the decision was taken out of my hands.

I pause here to wonder why that tactic doesn't work the other way 'round. Meh...

So I started the laundry while Steve went to Target and PetsMart - or is it PetSmart? I can never figure that out.

Steve is normally a big lump, and I hope he forgives me for saying that, but it's true. However, when he wants to work, he will work his hiney off and drag me along with him. I washed and folded clothes while he sorted and stored winter clothes and various other under-the-bed things. Then, he decided, we were going to shave the dog. I love my dogs, that is not even a question to be asked, but lately we have been having a problem with then that is completely new to me. Maybe it's the unusually dry weather, maybe it's the heat, but the dogs skipped right over shedding their winter coats and have started molting. I'm not kidding. A Lab and a Catahoula/Border Collie each have a lot of hair. Now, imagine that fur falling out in chunks. Not just falling out hair by hair, but literally clumping up into bunches and falling out in big furballs. Poor Butler looked so silly. His hindquarters were so ragged looking we just started calling him Captain FeatherPants. He didn't apprecate that, though. So we got the clippers and proceeded to give him a haircut. He didn't like it very much, and I don't know if we did it right, but we got about 12 pounds of fur off of him. He had to do a victory lap around the back yard once we were done, so maybe he felt lighter or something. We weren't able to cut Bear because it was too hot to stay outside any longer, so that will be done later this week. I dread that. Bear cowers and rolls over when he doesn't want us to do stuff to him, so that should be fun.

Later that evening, we had dinner with Anthony and an old friend of ours, Jeff, who worked at the SpaceDome with Steve years ago. We also got to meet his wife for the first time and she was a hoot. I liked her a lot. There was a lot of loud laughing and general rowdiness that evening. : ) However, I did manage to almost die of embarrassment towards the end of the night. Tina had gotten up to go to the restroom and I saw her purse sitting on the table. It had a plastic window in the front of it and what I thought was a program from a play sitting in the window. I had seen it earlier, but couldn't figure out which play it was, so while she was gone I leaned over and saw that it wasn't a program, but some kind of catalog. I asked Jeff what it was, and instead of telling me, he reached in her purse and pulled out another catalog and handed it to me. It said "Slumber Party" and had a picture of two ladies on the front holding shopping bags. So I thought to myself "Oh, she sells girly things: PJs, nail polish and all of the other stuff one thinks of in accordance with Slumber Parties. Like a tupperwear lady." So I opened the catalog to flip through it. I closed it again very quickly. Oh, there were girly things in there all right, but it wasn't pajamas and nail polish! Sweet banana mousse, I was unprepaired for the kinds of things I saw. Granted, I knew things of that nature existed, but I wasn't expecting to be handed a catalog of products in the middle of a family resturaunt! I must have turned fifteen shades of red, because they all got a good laugh out of it. Then when Tina came back, she saw I had the catalog and she basically told me that she was like a Mary Kay lady, but sold adult toys instead of makeup.

I nearly died.

I'm not a prude, nor do I think badly of her for selling this stuff, but I didn't know her that well and certainly didn't think I'd wind up getting a detailed description of her best sellers! Oy, vey. I think I blushed for a solid two hours.
By the time Steve and Jeff stopped talking, it was late and we had to head home. She did promise to drive all the way from Birmingham to host a party for me if I wanted, though. I told her I'd let her know. O.o

Oh, and I made this:
Yes. It's a crocheted Dalek. I found a pattern online, I had some gray yarn...and it just sort of happened.

I used to be relatively normal.

SIGH.






EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!

Steve and I had a scary night last night.

After going to bed, Steve stayed up to read a magazine while I fell asleep. I don't believe I had been asleep long when Steve shook me awake and said in a whispered voice: "There's someone in the house." Of course you know me, I was in CrazyTown, so I wasn't sure what he was talking about, but he said it again and then told me to listen. We both got very quiet, and listened to the creaks and pops of our house, which is old in that post-W.W.II way, and we have our fair share of sounds that go on all of the time. However, in all of those normal creaks, pops and groans our house produces, there was a strange sound. It was extra to the settling noises I'm used to, but it was very faint. I told him I didn't think it was anything serious, but Steve whispered that he had heard our doorknob, which we keep locked, rattle and that's why he woke me up. We lay there for some time, trying to figure out what to do. I grabbed the phone and held onto it and then Steve and I got up and changed out of our PJs and into regular clothes as quietly as possible. I'm guessing that it's easier to beat the snot out of an intruder while wearing jeans and not a pair of pajamas with the DHARMA initiative logo on them. We both looked around the room for a weapon, but we don't keep stuff like that in our bedroom. We have two rifles, but they are locked onto a rack in Steve's man room. So I grabbed the most deadly thing we had, which is a very large, very heavy glass paperweight the size of a softball. Steve asked what I was going to do with that, but I couldn't have told him. Unbidden, the vision of Janine Garaffalo from the movie "Mystery Men" popped into my head, and I could see myself trying to bowl over a thief holding one of our computers or something. Steve said he'd go first, a move I fully supported, and he flung open the door. We didn't see anyone in the hallway, so after Steve picked up an iron pipe that had been recently removed from an old bathroom fixture and was leaning against the wall in the hallway, we split up and I checked the guest room while he checked the man room. At this point, I was standing in the hall way and Steve was checking out the bathroom (behind the curtain is a perfect place for someone to hide). He came to the bathroom door and I don't know what happened to me. Call it bravery, call it stupidity, I don't know, but I snatched the pipe out of his hands and handed him the paperweight, and I walked into the kitchen with it raised like a baseball bat. I just kept thinking "This is MY house! I don't want to have to beat a man's ass, but I will do it if I have to!" So I reached over and flipped on the light, and that's when I saw him. Butler's cage was open and he walked out to see what was going on. I hate to think what I looked like to my dog, with my crazy sleep hair and wielding an iron pipe. Steve and I started laughing, and we quickly realized that there were no intruders in the house, and what happened was that Steve forgot to lock the kennel door, and Butler had probably walked down the hall and bumped the doorknob with his nose or tail when he realized he could get out. Those sounds we heard was an 80 lb. Labrador Retriever wondering through the house in the night.

Greatly relieved, we put the dog back to bed and went back to bed ourselves.

CrazyTown, Indeed.

Well, I didn't get to meet William Shatner. Somehow, I thought that would wind up bothering me more than it actually does. The girl who was assigned to be his "handler" while he was in our care was happy to announce that he was an ass. I thought she meant his people were hard to work with, but no, it was Mr. Shatner. Apparently he was hoping to fly in right before the event and then leave the minute it was over, but with the amount of money we paid him (basically the equivalent of 3 1/2 years of my salary - if they didn't take out taxes or anything else at all) he was persuaded to at least spend the night at an embarrassingly expensive suite at the new Embassy Suites hotel (that we paid for). When he was picked up by Jennifer, the SpRocket woman who was his "handler" and our Marketing VP, he made them sit in the limo and wait an hour for him to test drive a BMW at the Huntsville dealership, where he knew the owner. He also couldn't be bothered to have dinner at the event or even sit out in the audience. He sat backstage with a security guard and didn't talk to anyone. There was one point where, if I were a completely different person and didn't mind getting fired, I could have walked up to him and introduced myself, but I realized that A) I am not that brave, B) I didn't want to get fired, and C) I wanted the keep the idea of Mr. Shatner being much nicer than I found out he was. So I just peaked around a corner at him and went back to my seat.

Other than that, the evening went rather smoothly, albeit with a couple of snafus on my part. I had a terrible headache when I went to the run through that morning, and I'm pretty sure that the VP thought I was pouting about having to wear a flightsuit. I had already resigned myself to that fact, so it no longer bothered me. Of course, it bothered me that she thought that's what was wrong, but my head hurt too much for me to do anything about it. I received my flight suit, and someone from camp let me borrow their military boots. I didn't know who they belonged to, so I was distinctly grossed out that I was wearing someone else's shoes. I felt like a tool. I was told that I looked "Soooooo adorable" and that reminded me how much I hate being condescended to. I didn't ride the bus with some of the other helpers, because I didn't know if I would be staying throughout the whole thing, and when I tried to park, I was told I had to pay. I was not aware that I had to, since I was working. In fact, I was told that we didn't have to, but they wouldn't let me stay. I was pissed. There I was, in a dang flight suit, speeding through the streets of Huntsville trying to find an ATM so I could pay to park at an event I was working at. I almost had to go all the way home before I found a place that I knew had an ATM. If you ever want to be the center of attention, go to a Kroger dressed like an astronaut. So I finally got back, 1/2 an hour late, and paid my stupid fee to park. The second I walked in, I was surrounded by people dressed in cocktail dresses and tuxes, so yeah, I felt sexy. At any rate, by the time things got going, I didn't care anymore about what I was wearing. I pasted on my customer service smile and turned on the smarm! Nah, I was charming. It was kind of fun once things got started. I talked to a bunch of town big wigs, was interviewed for some kind of newsletter by a NASA employee, and got to do my Joan Rivers red carpet fashion police interviews in my head. Oh, but to have been able to say some of it out loud! There was a lot of cleavage in that room. A lot. It forcefully reminded that Huntsville doesn't have a large population of people who have had plastic surgery. Eeeeeeeeeeesh. I finally resigned myself to sit down and eat. Thankfully they had me sit in the farthermost table in the back, because they knew how I'd feel in the middle of all of the dressed up people. I still felt dumb, but there was no excuse for me not to eat since my job of the night was finished. Wow, if I had paid the full ticket price for the event, I would have been piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiissed at the dinner we got. Since mine was free, I said nothing. Here is an artist's rendering of what was on the plate:

The brown thing is a filet mignon, which wasn't bad. The orange thing was some kind of mummified baked carrot that I wasn't sure if we were supposed to eat, or if it was just garnish. The tan things were two halves of a red-skinned potato. Not two potatoes, but one potato cut in half. The green things were tiny zucchinis sliced so that they could be fanned out. The yellow thing was a shrimp. Once shrimp. It wasn't even a good shrimp. Behold. This is what a $150 dinner looks like. Take me to McDonald's any day. You can call me uneducated and unrefined, but you can also bite me. Trust me, biting me would be more filling than the dinner, and I wouldn't even charge you the whole $150!

The ceremony turned out so well. I was amazed at the people who were inducted into the Space Camp Hall of Fame. They were so interesting and they have done so much. Shatner was funny and charming and a great MC, even if in real life he's somewhat of a butthead. I hate that you had to miss it. You know who I'm talking to. I think Mr. Shatner realized that he was in the presence of actual space heroes, astronauts and scientists, so he was also in awe of them. I think he was genuinely impressed. Our CEO, a former Army General and Mr. Shatner didn't seem to like each other much. They traded thinly veiled barbs as they took turns at the podium. Had they been younger, less aware of their appearance in front of a crowd, and in a parking lot instead of a fancy-pants event, I think they would have wound up beating the hell out of each other. That would have been precious! : ) At the end of the event, William Shatner ran off of the stage as we were asked to give him one more round of applause, but they had to go and get him again because the Mayor was there to give him the key to the city and a flag that had been flown aboard one of the space shuttles.

All in all, it was a nice event and I'm glad I got to be a part of it. After it was over, though, I was glad to leave. I pulled the top down on Lois and drove away into the warm evening singing "The Joker" at the top of my lungs. I recommend that as a great way to end any evening.

OK, they apologized. I'd say that it was because they read my blog, but I don't know if they even know I have one. I hope not. Glad I didn't say who they were, just in case.

Anyway, so they suck a little less now. : ) Good for them!

You know, I actually have a weekend update to post here, but I haven't had a chance to finish writing it yet. Can you believe that I've been busy? No, really! I've even got the paint stains on my jeans and fingernails to prove it!

The whole SpRocket thing with William Shatner is tonight. Let's hope that I can contain myself.

I woke up this morning fully dressed and completely confused. I guess I fell asleep reading last night. Party animal, you know. : )

Would you like to know what one of the most difficult things for me to deal with is?

I never know what to do anymore when someone hurts my feelings.

I mean really, am I too old to let someone else's actions bother me? Too old or not, it does.

I know some people who don't care about anything enough to let the things that other people do or say get under their skin. I am not like that. I might not seem like it, but a lot of things can hurt me. I usually just pretend it doesn't. Somehow, I don't know if that is the right thing to do either.

I think one of the worst things about it is that I never feel comfortable enough to tell anyone about things like that, not even if they would be able to help. It's not that I don't have anyone to tell, I do, but I don't want anyone to know because it makes me feel childish. Steve always bugs me until I tell him, if he ever realizes something is wrong, mainly because he thinks it's him. I really don't like that. He should know by now that if I haven't thrown anything at him, then it isn't him. : )

So to the anonymous web out there, someone has hurt my feelings. The funny thing is that they have no idea, and if they did, I have a feeling that they wouldn't care very much. I will never tell them that they did.

I just want everyone out there to know that that person sucks. A lot.

RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING

1) Take THAT! After three days, the unrelenting brain song is gone! Of course, it has been replaced by James Taylor, but at least I know the words to "How Sweet It Is (to be loved by you)!"

2) Went to see Pirates of the Carribbean last night. I...well, I don't know how I feel about it really. As usual, buckles were still swashed, Johnny Depp is still rocking the smeary eyeliner, and Orlando Bloom still looks like he hasn't reached puberty. It was good, really good actually, but I think the ending could have been better. I don't want to ruin it for anyone who hasn't seen it yet, so I won't say what made me so mad, but the more I think about the ending the more I want to throw things. I have never quite been so aware of the teeth on those guys. Also, there was a lot of saliva flying. There was a really gross scene that involved Davy Jones' (once again, the pirate not the Monkee) tentically beard killing another guy, and it almost made me gag. Still gives me the shivers.

3) Steve and I watched "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom" the other day. That has always been one of my favorite movies of all time. However, I realize that I watched it without asking some fairly important questions. A) Why did Willie Scott get on the plane with Indie and Short Round? She was basically abducted by Dr. Jones (doll) to get the antidote to the poison, but to my knowledge she wasn't a target to the bad guys. B) Why was there a giant cauldron of water in the mines? I mean seriously... C) When did Willie have time to go back and get the clothes she was wearing when she first got to the Palace? D) Do those people always eat bugs and snakes? Didn't a brother ever just want a hot pocket? I think I'm thinking about all of this too much. Oy.

4) I am so mad. OK, get this. I have said before that I have been tapped to help out at the Hall of Fame dealie for the SpRocket. It's a black tie deal, so you'd think that I'd be frantically trying to find something to wear to it, right? Wrong. Guess who is the only person in her department who will not be dressed in anything resembling black tie? ME! Not only that, but guess what I do have to wear? Nope, not the pink lady costume, either. I have to wear a FLIGHT SUIT. No, you don't understand...a ^!%@$# BLUE SPACE CAMP FLIGHT SUIT. Why? Because someone with no taste and a bad sense of humor thinks that they need people dressed like camp kids to direct people to their seats and hand out name badges. Also, I was told to wear black, military style boots with the flight suit. I don't know about you, but I don't own black, military style boots and I'm not going to go out and buy any. That seems weird, anyway. Who wears boots like that with an astronaut flight suit? Astronauts certainly don't. Ugh. So, I told my boss that since I'm going to be dressed like this, I would be uncomfortable attending the event as a guest. She then goes on to make fun of me in front of everyone in our weekly meeting for saying that I didn't want to sit with a bunch of people in tuxes and evening gowns while wearing glorified footie pajamas. Everyone else seems to get why I feel this way but her. I am choosing to chalk it up to her just being worried about the event and wanting everything to go well. I have also told her that I will not attend as a guest and I will do whatever else needs to be done during the speeches. If she needs a seat filler, she can buy a ticket for her son or something. If she didn't honestly seem like someone who is about to have a heart attack about this, I'd tell her she could just bite me. Being this low on the totem pole sucks sometimes.

Hello, Sweeties!

I'm sorry for the lack of updatage lately, but I've been sick since Sunday. I thought it was allergies, but I'm beginning to think it is something else. My back is killing me, I'm not sleeping and my stomach hurts. As my mom used to tell me, it's probably an acute case of meanness!

I hope you don't think that I have given up on the "Yummy Chocolate of the Day" entries, but I had an uncontrollable moment that wound up with me eating almost the entire remaining top later of chocolates in a short amount of time and no photos were taken. : ( As soon as I feel better I am going to resume YCOTD! I'm looking forward to it.

As a side note, I'm on day 2 of the unrelenting brain song. Kenny had a link to the song "Me & Mrs. Jones" on his site the other day and I listened to it. It has been running through my head almost non stop. Instead of gradually going away, it's getting worse. I'm driving Steve crazy because I have suddenly been singing at the top of my voice at random times during the day. I sing the only part of the song I know, which is: MeeeeeEeeeeeeEeeeeeee and Missus, Missus Jooooooones, missusjones missusjones, missusjones...got a Thiiiiiiiiiiiiing, goin oooooooonnn... He's starting to become unnerved.

more later!

BLOGGED ALONG THE WAY: Weekend Update edition

SATURDAY: So, the wedding went just fine. I got to the church early like I was supposed to and sat in my designated soloist seat near the front of the church. I had two minor wardrobe malfunctions to start my day off, though. The shoes I bought that matched the dress I wore (which Steve said didn't look as bad on me as he thought it would. You know, the more I think about it, the less I'm going to miss him when I have to kill him in his sleep.) had been flipping and flopping off of my feet since I put them on and started walking in them. Luckily, and for no foreseeable reason at the time, I had put the elastic band from the big box of chocolate that Kenny had given me for graduation into my purse, and when I cut it in half with my Miss Army Knife, I was able to tie the halves onto my shoe straps and keep the shoes on! THANK YOU, KENNY! It felt like a Mentos moment! However, when I leaned over to tie the bands onto my shoes, one of "the girls" almost made a break for it. I'm SO very glad that the church was still relatively empty. So very, very glad.

<--- That is the dress I wore. It's not at all like anything else I've ever owned in my life, but it actually looked cute. Also, it had pockets, and that just plain ruled.

The wedding began, and the groomsmen came forward to light two giant candelabras on the stage. For some reason one of the candles wouldn't light all the way with the tall brass thingies that they were using, and when they walked back to the rear of the church, it went out. The groomsman went back up to relight it, but realized that the brass thingy was useless, so he pulled out one of those grill lighters out of the back of his tux and lit it again. That was funny. So then everything began and the family started walking down the aisle. Then they played the infernal song "Butterfly Kisses" and the other soloist was saying "don't listen, don't listen" to me under her breath. How could I help it, though? So I grabbed my wrist and pinched the hell out of myself. Seriously, I am surprised that I didn't sever that vein I was pinching so hard. That kept the tears away until the mother of the bride came up and was lighting the memorial candle next to the photo of her deceased husband. I just pinched harder and tears welled up anyways. The only thing that saved me from collapsing on the floor in a puddle of sobs was the fact that the memorial candle wouldn't light, and the guy who was escorting the mom turned out to be the same boy scout that had the lighter in his pants. So he pulled that out and lit the candle for the mom, which made everyone smile again. My solo went well, or so everyone told me, and the couple were lawfully wedded and all. It was so sweet. I love to hear really spiritual ceremonies. I always like to hear the parts of the bible that talk about the way marriage is supposed to be like. To bad it's not as easy to follow what it says as it is to listen to it!

Then, there was cake. ; )

I ended up with a big swollen weal on my wrist where I pinched myself, which is still there. Boo. After I left the reception, I needed to run an errand, but I was kind of lonely. Steve had decided not to go with me, so I was alone. I tried calling a couple of people, but no one answered their phones! I finally got Steve to answer, but he was half asleep, so we didn't talk for long.

And so ended the day, with a DVD of Firefly (which should still be on the air, in my opinion) and an episode of Dr. Who.

BLOGGED ALONG THE WAY: Weekend Update edition.

FRIDAY: I have been asked to sing at a wedding this weekend, and tonight was the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. It always scares me to sing at weddings because even the nicest, sweetest bride-to-be can become a screeching, leering, shoe-throwing succubus who will scratch your eyes out if you do anything to ruin their big day. Yeah. So far, I have avoided this. However, the fact that it could happen still scares the hell out of me. Add to this that I don't know this bride very well, and I also don't know the song very well, and you have one nervous Kelly. I went to the rehearsal practicing the song in the car all the way to the church. Thank heavens that the bride turned out to be very nice and have a very good sense of humor and who wasn't scary. Also, thank heavens that I knew the song well enough that they thought my rendition of it was great. I mean, I don't suppose I'll be hurting Rascal Flatt's CD sales or anything, but I guess I'll do OK.

Now, I've sung at a lot of weddings in my day. A lot. More than my fair share, some might say. I've been to sweet weddings, simple weddings, redneck weddings, weddings that had less than 10 guests, and some that had more than 400. I've seen redneck weddings, weddings that cost more than the total of my college tuition, beach weddings, weddings that the groom was totally suckered - excuse me- convinced into (sad to say) and at least one where I'm pretty sure the bride was suckered into it. I've seen shotgun weddings and weddings between teenagers (sometimes one in the same, but not always). I say this to explain that I have been to all kinds of weddings, and I have never had a problem with getting all emotional (well, except for the ones where my friends got suckered. But I digress.) However, there is one thing that can happen at a wedding that will get me every time. I can't explain it and I can't understand it. If you want to see me fall completely apart and cry like a tired 3 year old, you can do one thing. Play the song "Butterfly Kisses." I have no idea why that song gets to me, but it does every time. I can't even hear it in the car without sobbing like a cook on Hell's Kitchen. It bothers me even more when the father of the bride or groom isn't there. Guess which song is playing right before I sing? Guess who won't be at the wedding because he died? Also, guess who had to leave the rehearsal to "get a drink of water?" I held out as long as I could, seriously. I sat there, blinking back tears, my throat hurting from being all constricted. It was a mess. Luckily I was able to get a hold onto myself before my solo, but jeez. I can only hope I make it through the actual ceremony. If I'm ever asked to sing Butterfly Kisses, I will have to shoot myself.

I didn't stay for the dinner because I had yet to actually find something to wear. I have a lot of black dresses, but since this is an afternoon wedding and I have no objection to the wedding due to the fact that I don't know them well enough and they both seem very nice, black isn't appropriate. That isn't to say I wear black only to weddings I mourn. Sometimes I just feel fat and black helps. I'm babbling here. Anyways, I went to Target to look for a non-black dress and I couldn't find the one I was looking for in any color than black or screaming coral pink. Literally, the coral dress burnt my retinas. So I finally dug something up that is probably not my style but still really cute, and I went to find matching shoes. I know that I have deformed, stumpy, munchkin feet and I don't have many options, but good grief. I don't believe it's possible to find a high heeled shoe in an actual color (and by that I mean not black, white or brown) that doesn't look like it belongs on a hooker or a drag queen. Yellow would have been the best color shoe to get, but I didn't feel like trying to walk in a 5 inch heel. I finally found something that matched, but I'm not very happy with them. Oh, the trials of being a girl. : )