Breaking News!

Dodododododododododododododododododododo......

That's the beeping sound that they use to make at the beginning of old school breaking news reports. It's a lot less obnoxious than the EHHHHHHHHHHH, EHHHHHHHHHHH, EHHHHHHHHHH that comes on during bad weather warnings.

But we do have BREAKING NEWS, hot off the presses! Ah man, I'm really having a hard time not busting into some Citizen Kane "News on the March" 1930s-type journalism here. I'm sitting here with Brooklyn and I keep saying "Brrrrreaking Newwwwws" in a this fake pseudo-New York newsboy accent and I think it's getting on her nerves. Yup, she just double winked* at me. She's had enough.

We have rented a second beach house for the wedding! This house is directly across the street from The Four Seasons and will help accommodate out-of-town guests, and can also be used as a dumping ground for tramps, hoodlums and misfits.

The second house is called "Young." It's two-story, has 5 bedrooms, and sleeps 12. There is a pool, but it will be closed during our wedding...wa, wa, waaaaa. But it does have a really cool, screened-in 2nd floor deck, and a hot tub. It's not as super fantastic as The Four Seasons, but it's still pretty chill. I'm including some pics. (My favorite is the one where, from the deck, you can see across the street to the incredibly rad Four Seasons.) I'm also including a link so you can check out more pics of the place.

Now, with two houses of varied degrees of awesomeness, some of you might be thinking? Which house will I get to stay in? I wanna stay at The Four Seasons, not that B-List house**. What if Steven and Lacy put me at Young, does that mean they don't like me as much? Does that mean, I'm not cool? Well, that's absurd. Just because you get put at Young, instead of The Four Seasons does not mean that you are any less liked and/or appreciated. All of our family and friends are loved equally. If we could embrace you all at the same time, we would.

With that being said, me and Steven are accepting bribes. In planning this wedding, integrity and ethics really don't have a place at the table. So feel free to bribe away. It's not only appreciated, but encouraged.

Some things I enjoy include (but are not limited to) Starbucks, massages, sugar-free Red Bull, being told I'm pretty, being told I have nice hair, and cupcakes. Steven likes the Redskins, electronic gadgets, having a clean truck, work tools, processed meat products (i.e. beef jerky), and night-vision goggles. Brooklyn enjoys peanut butter, cheese, taking naps with people, throw blankets for the couch, and going on adventure walks.

*This has really nothing to do with anything, but Brooklyn really did wink at me before. Sometimes she winks. Her right eye, she'll just wink at you. I told Steven that sometimes she'd wink at me and he didn't believe me, until she finally did it to him one day and it blew his mind. I don't know if she winks because she has an eye tick, or maybe she really is winking because I wink at her constantly. Maybe she just picked up the habit. Hell, it could just be that she needs to blink and she's too lazy to blink both eyes at once. I don't know. It's cool when she does it though.

**Yes, Jessica Dillard. I know it's your Sweet 16 Birthday Celebration on the same weekend as our wedding. So, like I told your Dad, you will definitely be staying at The Four Seasons, if you guys are able to come. So hopefully you can!

What Should Grooms Do?

A controversial topic when it comes to wedding planning is groom involvement. I have had numerous conversations with married couples about how much the groom actually helped during the wedding planning and the conversation always goes like this...

Any Bride from Anywhere from Anytime: He didn't do a god damn thing! Nothing. I did EVERYTHING!

(cut to the groom with a bewildered and accused look on his face)

Confused Groom: What did you want me to do that I didn't do? What was I supposed to do? I did what you asked me to do.

Now, this is a complicated situation and the basis for many, many, many pre-wedding fights. How involved should a groom be in planning his own wedding day? I say, not very. Let me explain. I love Steven. I think he's great at buying presents. He did a fabulous job at picking out my engagement ring. He's got great taste in women (me). But you know what, if I let Steven choose what we had for dinner for every single night of an entire week, do you know what we'd have? Chili Dogs. Not just on Monday night and then maybe Thursday night. But every single night. We would have chili dogs for seven straight nights. And he'd love it. He wouldn't see anything wrong with it. I've watched Steven fart on Brooklyn and then put a blanket over her head, so she'd be trapped in the fart mist. Then he lifted the blanket up real quick to see her reaction and then put the blanket down again, so she could simmer in his fart for a little bit longer. And I don't think this is unusual behavior for guys. In fact, I'm pretty sure most women reading this right now have had similar experiences with their men. So my thought is this -- do you really want your fiance having that much influence with your wedding planning? I don't think you do.

Because the problem with women is this -- we don't just want our fiances to be involved, we want them to be involved in a very specific way. It's not enough that they are generally excited about the wedding day itself. We want them to really care about tiny details that guys just don't care about. We want them to look at a color wheel and go, "Holy shit...look at the way lilac and canary go together. Now that says spring wedding!" But no guy is going to say that. And if he did -- be honest -- it'd probably freak you out a little. You'd probably have a conversation with your mother about it. You don't want your fiance picking out wedding concepts anymore than he wants you making decisions about his fantasy football team.

Unless you're marrying David Tutera (and you're not), then chances are, you're fiance is not going to do what you want him to do. He's not going to say what you want him to say in the way you want him to say it. He's not going to pick the things you want him to pick. And even when he does, it'll still feel wrong. David Tutera is a professional. He does this wedding stuff for a living. When you watch his show, have you ever noticed that he meets the fiance for like two minutes and then politely asks him to leave? That's the last you see of the fiance until the actual wedding day. There is a reason for that. David Tutera knows what he's doing. He's 86ing the groom out of the wedding day planning because he doesn't want the bride murdering the groom before the wedding.

I watched an episode last night and the bride was dead-set on wearing a hideous purple wedding gown. David calmly looked at the bride and said, "You are a princess. You need to stand out. Let the purple be painted around you, not on you." And that was it. Not only did the bride agree to get a new white gown, but was even excited about it. If her groom would have tried to talk her out of the purple dress, it would have gone more like this -- "You look like Grimace from McDonald's." And that would be it. The bride would still have worn the purple dress, and her groom would be wearing matching purple and black bruises on his face from the bridal beatdown he would have received.

Guys just don't know how to handle wedding planning. Most married women claim that their husband helped very, very little with the planning process. Married men, on the other hand, think they did plenty. The problem is that wedding planning is a lot like a glacier -- you only see the little bit on top (i.e. the venue, the cake, the photographer), but you don't see all the stuff below the surface (i.e. the return address envelopes, the silverware, the serving dish that the cole slaw should go in, are we having cole slaw?, where are we getting cole slaw?, will the cole slaw me made with mayonnaise or Miracle Whip, no wait...his family doesn't like Miracle Whip, but mine does.) See, that's the difference between how men think and women think. Men think about the major things; women think about EVERYTHING else. We don't just think about it; we ponder it. We obsess over it. We toss and turn at night over it. Men just don't get stressed out about cole slaw. And that pisses women off.

Sure, he helped you for several hours assembling the wedding invitations. But what he doesn't understand is that before you got to that point -- you had already spent days designing the invitations, weeks waiting for them, hours and hours looking at wedding websites, driven miles and miles to different stores buying stamps, ribbon, glue, whatever. So that's why he feels like he has helped, but you feel like he hasn't done crap. That's how the drama starts.

With Steven, I made the mistake of involving him in too many decisions early on. Decisions that he didn't really care about. When he didn't have an opinion, it pissed me off. And when he gave me his opinion, I'd dismiss it as being silly and impractical. He would ask me the same questions about things over and over again, and I'd get enraged. Not just a little mad, but boiling-over angry.

He was trying so hard to help and it would just make me angrier. He consulted a co-worker and got a semi-acceptable answer for the parking situation at our reception. Which would have been fine, but I had already spent several hours calling the City of Virginia Beach municipal parking department two months earlier. So I already had my answer...two months ago. Of course, I told him this, but he didn't remember.

There was one day, that Steven actually invented the concept of Save the Dates. I mean, not just the idea of us having them for our wedding, but he literally invented the concept of them in the entire universe. Of course, this was after I had already ordered our Save the Dates. Steven called and said, "Hey, I got an idea. What if we make these cards, and send them out to people telling them about our wedding? We could even put your blog website address on there." Of course, we had already talked all about this, weeks and weeks before. I have heard that with Alzheimer's' patients, there is no point in even fighting with them. It's just best to go along with whatever they say. So I simply replied, "Wow, that's a great idea babe. Let's do it." I think the Save the Dates arrived the very next day.

The thing that has really helped my sanity in regards to our wedding planning is that Steven has gone far, far away. He went all the way across country for work, and it has really made things easier. I consult him on about 10% of the details, and I make 100% of the decisions. About three to four times a week, he asks, "Anything new with the wedding?" I give him any new details and he always seems okay with them.

Because that's the thing about guys, even if they made a big stink about something earlier, they suddenly don't remember being upset about it before. It's like pushing a dog. Two seconds after you push them, they are wagging their tails again. Guys really, truly don't care about what you choose. I picked out the beach house for our wedding. It was not the house that Steven wanted. He loves it now. I booked our honeymoon at a different resort then Steven wanted. He couldn't be more excited about it. To this day, Steven has still not seen our Save the Dates. He's seen the picture that Pilly drew, but he has not seen the final product. He doesn't know the size and the shape of it, or even the font color. It took me two full days to pick that font color. I even printed out several font choices, and took them to work and had random people vote on their favorite. Steven is cool with whatever I choose.

And that's why men marry the women they do -- because they trust you to make the decisions for them that they don't really give a crap about. They don't want to pick out socks, or buy flea and tick medicine. They don't care what kind of fabric softener you buy. So why would they care about the theme of your cake topper? They don't. Guys care about food, music and cars. So those are the things they should be involved in during wedding planning, and nothing else. Not just for his sanity, but yours as well.

Grooms -- you can't kill them, so you might as well marry them.

Location, Location, Location

My mom complained that I haven't posted a blog in two days.

Mom: You haven't posted anything since Wednesday.
Me: Well, Thursday was Jeni's birthday, and on Friday I worked all day. Today, I didn't have time to blog. I slept all late. Daddy called and woke me up, and then I came over here.
Mom: Oh. Well, have you blogged today?
Me: What? Since I've been sitting here with you on the couch? No, I haven't posted anything since I've been sitting here with you on the couch.
Mom: I don't like it when you make fun of me. I like it when you make fun of Brooklyn.

It's really late, and I've got a lot of garbage TV I need to catch up on (i.e. TMZ, Bethenny's Getting Married?, Say Yes to the Dress). So this is going to be one of those informational type blog posts. Kinda like when you've got a substitute teacher and they show you a video instead of actually teaching you anything. But this stuff is actually important, so study up -- it might be on the test.

Actually, this is some good, juicy stuff. I blab and blab so much to people I work with about my wedding planning, that sometimes I forget that other people (who don't work at Reginella's) might not know too much about our wedding yet. So let's cover a biggie. Where we are having our wedding.

We are having our wedding at:




The Four Seasons, which is a beach house on Sandbridge Beach in Virginia Beach, Virginia. Our wedding is on a Saturday, but we've got the house rented from Friday night until Monday morning. It's a pretty large house -- over 10,000 square feet, 3 floors, 9 bedrooms and 10.5 baths. It's got an indoor pool, as well as an outdoor pool. So if you're planning on coming to our wedding, bring your bathing suit! I'm sure once it gets late enough, we'll all jump in. It's got a foosball table, air hockey table, pool table, horseshoes, and a basketball hoop.


Some of the dorkier stuff, that I think is cool, is that it's got a commercial icemaker. (Only someone who works at a restaurant could be excited about that). It also has 2 stoves, 2 ovens, and 3 refrigerators. I'm not really in to cooking, but I knew this kid growing up named Ben Yoder and his dad was an architect and designed their home, and they had 2 dishwashers, so they never had to unload the dishwasher! Can you imagine going through life without ever having to unload a dishwasher? (I know you can imagine it, Joey Dillard...ha ha ha, burn!) I always thought that was the coolest thing ever, so I guess that's one of the reasons I love this house so much because yes....it has 2 dishwashers!

The Four Seasons is right on the oceanfront, so we're planning on getting married on the beach and then having the reception on the deck. Of course, this is weather permitting. If the weather doesn't permit, then...let's all just get drunk, play billiards, and jump in the pool naked! Yeah right...this isn't The Jersey Shore, people. This isn't Snookie Getting Married? If the weather does end up being crappy, then we'll just move the nuptials inside. The house is huge, so it shouldn't be a problem. There is just as much fun to be had inside, as there is outside.

But don't take my word for it. It's Sunday, and you know you don't want to go outside and mow the lawn...not yet, not right now. So waste some time and follow this link and check out our beach house. It'll be time well wasted!

The Four Seasons in beautiful Sandbridge

The Pill

I hope everybody liked our Save the Dates. I had a real conundrum in trying to figure them out. Steven is all the way on the other side of the country for work, and we don't really have a lot of good couple pictures to choose from. I don't know how or why I thought of having a picture drawn of us, but I know I was in my parents pool when the idea came to me.

My friend, Mike Pilapil, designed them for us. (If you look really closely at the shorebreak, towards the right, you can see his signature.) The most important thing you should know about Mike Pilapil is that nobody calls him Mike Pilapil. He has more nicknames then Muhammad Ali. As a matter of fact, I sorta feel uncomfortable every time I have to type Mike Pilapil. It just feels weird; sorta like calling your parents by their real names and not Mom and Dad. Some nicknames for Mike Pilapil (uh...shudders) include, but are not limited to -- Pill, Pilly, Mikey P, China (yes, that is racist), Chino (the en espanol version of China), Pilsner, Pills-na-na-na, and Pilly BaDilly. I am particularly partial to plain and simple Pilly, so let's just go with that.

Pilly has the misfortune of being incredibly well-liked by everybody, and possessing a vast cornucopia of skills. Pilly is good at drawing, painting, writing comics, creating Halloween costumes, playing most musical instruments, composing songs, mixing music, picking good movies, and playing football. When my mom first saw Pilly, she said, "Now, there's a good lookin' Mexican!" The only problem is that Pilly is not Mexican, but Filipino. But you get the point. Pilly is likable, talented, and cute as a little koala bear (which is what I've always thought he looks like).

The unfortunate thing about being so well-liked is that sometimes you get picked on. Sorta like when you pull the pigtails of the girl you like in elementary school. Well, in Pilly's case it's more like getting thrown into the dumpster by a kitchen-full of Mexicans, while the other waiters helplessly watch. Alright, so we probably could have helped. Hell, we could have stopped it easily, but then we would have risked the chance of getting thrown into the dumpster too. Or even worse, not getting our food made.

The other unfortunate thing about having such a large skill set is that you often get asked to do favors. Sorta like how if you own a pick-up truck, then you always have to help your friends move. Well, Pilly really helped me out with this one because I didn't have any usable pics of me and Steven. Remember that original picture I posted of me and Steven here? Well, that is the actual picture I sent Pilly to use as the model for our Save the Dates. So give him major, MAJOR kudos for creating what he did off what I gave him.

I told Pilly that it didn't really matter what me and Steven looked like as long as Brooklyn looked like Brooklyn. Beyond anything, it was crucial that Brooklyn's likeness was correct, from the white diamond on her forehead to her copper nose. I think drawing Brooklyn stressed Pilly out the most. It's hard to please a set of proud parents.

I particularly like my character because I resemble Renee Zellwegger in the face, sorta squinty-eyed Asian stereotype meets blond bombshell stereotype. I love it! When I first sent the drawing to Steven, he said, "Well, I don't look that. I don't have that chest, and I can't play the guitar. But Brooklyn looks spot on!"

Good work, Pilly!

All That Glitters

So you probably got your Save the Dates, and found a good amount of glitter inside. I didn't put that glitter in there to be whimsical, and it's not a theme of my wedding. I put that glitter in there for one reason...I was trying to be an asshole. Sort of a bridal prank, if you will. Let me explain.

Doing those Save the Dates was a pain in my butt. Some of you out there have really hard to spell names. (I'm talking to you, Achilles Syrios.) Some of you have really long mailing addresses. (That's you Greg, Jayme and Rob) And some of you live in ridiculous-sounding towns. (Kalamazoo, Uncle Andy? Really?) I was on the brink of having a breakdown. And then, right in the middle of addressing an envelope, I just got up. I got in my car. I drove to Wal-Mart. And I bought some glitter. Lots and lots of glitter.

I just wanted everybody to have that moment -- when they were opening our Save the Dates and they pulled the card out of the envelope, and....bam....glitter! Glitter everywhere! I wanted some sort of profane word to come out of everybody's mouths at virtually the same time, all across this great nation. The thought of that makes me feel better.

I don't know what it is about glitter that makes people so angry, but it does. Glitter is like the herpes of arts and crafts -- once it's on you, you can't get rid of it. You think it's gone and then hours (even days) later, you'll find a piece of glitter on your earlobe. It just won't go away.

I can't totally take all the credit for this little prank. The seed of inspiration was planted years ago, unknowingly, by Matt Schlabach, a guy I work with. One Christmas, somebody thought it was a good idea to hang glitter stars from the ceiling of our restaurant. They weren't even up a day before the waiters were wiping their hands on the stars and throwing glitter at each other. Those first few days, all the waiters were guilty of throwing glitter. But if glittering were a crime, punishable by jail, then Matt would be serving in a Federal Penitentiary...and he'd be on death row.

Matt took glittering to a whole new level of obnoxious behavior -- from a mere prank to an inspired art-form. He had a number of techniques. Sometimes he would sprinkle glitter onto your head and scalp, which is nearly impossible to get out, even after showering. He was quite fond of putting glitter all over his hand and then smacking you across the face with it, leaving a glitter hand print across your cheek. You would walk around looking like you had just gotten bitch-smacked by Michael Jackson circa 1985. Sometimes he would simply walk up to you and toss glitter at you...poof...like a glitter wizard trying to turn you into a unicorn.

On one Friday night, Matt went way too far. He totally focused all his glittering ninja skills on Pilly, and completely caked him from scalp to toes with glitter. Pilly looked like he was one of those vampires in Twilight when they walk into the sunlight. This might not have been a problem if it was the end of the night, but this was right in the middle of the shift. I think Pilly still had tables. It's kinda hard to get taken seriously when you're covered in glitter and you aren't David Bowie.

So the glittering was just a silly prank to help me get through those Save the Dates, and if you were upset by it, then I'm sorry. (not really) I put more glitter in some people's invites than in others. This was not accidentally done, but diabolically plotted and executed. I put so much glitter in Matt's envelope that I had to put two stamps on it. Not surprisingly, Matt was not happy about the glitter in his envelope. It's so fun to glitter people, yet not so much fun when it happens to you, huh Matt?

My friend, Adam, said that when he opened his envelope, it was like a glitter bomb went off.

Adam: I had to take a shower before I could come to work.

Me: That was the point.

Adam: So if there are pranks now, then what's gonna happen when I go to your wedding? Is someone going to walk up to me and kick me in my crotch?

What? Kick you in your crotch? I would never do something like.........hmmmmmmmm?