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Thursday, November 07, 2002

Sara: Is that a shrine in your pocket, or are you happy to see me?

not martha has sent me off on a pocket shrine frenzy. I simply must make some. But first - must eat altoids. Lots of altoids. Need empty tins.

Because, um, I don't have enough projects going on right now.
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Sara: If it's not all about the bride, the terrorists have won

Have you seen myownlabels.com? Lots of ideas for our pasta sauce jars. They also have wedding favor labels, but the text on the wedding labels page made me want to gag and I didn't get any further into the site.

Every bride searches for poignant ways to express her individuality on her wedding day. Now it's your turn. [...] You're giving wedding favors as a way of saying thanks to those who've helped you along the way. Thanks for helping with endless dress fittings, for patiently listening to your dreams, and for just being there on your day.

Thanks for helping with the endless dress fittings, for patiently listening to my dreams, and for just being there on my day. Really. I mean it. I love you all. Here are some almonds. Especially thank you for listening to that weird dream about being married by Hello Kitty. That one still freaks me out a bit. Have some more almonds.

You know, like every bride, I've searched for poignant ways to express my individuality on my wedding day. Oooh, I'm such an individual. And I express that by making unique consumer choices, as guided by Martha Stewart, various bride publications and websites, and other tastemakers. If I choose to reject this approach, there is another set of vendors ready and willing to feed my wacky independent individualistic sensibility by selling me different products.

Sorry. I'm cranky. It just seems so hard to escape the idea that weddings are all about shopping, and expressing yourself through the products you choose to buy. I'm becoming increasingly weirded out by the constant refrain that I can express how different I am from everyone else by consuming carefully chosen products. Like there's some amazing facet of Sara-ness that can only be expressed through tiny personalized bottles of bubbles embossed with Sara & Dennis 5/3/2003.

This bugs me in every day life also, but it's yet another thing that is brought into sharp focus when a wedding is involved.
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Sara: And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack

I'm trying to be more intentional about money, and it really really blows. I have 32 years of conditioning in the opposite direction. I'm working towards being able to tithe (give 10% of my income to the church) because I think it's a great spiritual discipline, but in order to do that, I need to have a better handle on what money is in my life, and where it's out of whack with what I want it to be.

As I said, it sucks. It's a horrible thing to look at. My family always pretended that we had more money than we did, so I have this whole poverty=shame thing that I have to get over. That, and needing to have a lot of stuff. I've gotten so much better at that one in the past couple of years, but I still sometimes want to prove my worth by buying things I don't need. Ick ick ick. I'm not saying that I want to be Amish or anything - my Toys R Us binges don't gel with that lifestyle - I just want to make better choices, and I don't want to keep trying to use money to fill needs that money can't fill. And it's messing with my whole life.
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Wednesday, November 06, 2002

Sara: jingle bells jingle bells

Kind of weird to talk about Christmas projects when some of the people who will be receiving said projects read the site. So, you'll have to wait to hear about the fabulous thing I'm making for Jon and Ryan. Sorry. However, Dennis and I have talked about our joint project enough that I may as well get input on it here.

Dennis' family is Italian, which means he has an Italian grandfather who taught him how to cook. Specifically, who taught him about marinara sauce. The boy makes a killer sauce. Last winter, we had a Godfather Party - he cooked and we all watched the Godfather movies and groaned about being too full after gorging ourselves on pasta. So, this Christmas, he's going to make up a bucket of sauce, and we're going to put it in jars and package it up with some pasta and lots of people are going to have a good meal.

He's in charge of cooking, I'm in charge of packaging. Any leads on places to shop for jars/cellophane bags for the pasta (my evil plan is to buy the huge bags at Safeway or Costco and repackage the pasta in smaller bags with my own labels so it looks swankier) and other supplies? Any cool label samples I could look at? Any insanely clever packaging ideas you've seen? Help...
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Tuesday, November 05, 2002

Sara: I am so lame

Nothing makes one feel pathetic like playing video games with teenage boys. I hung out with my friend's sons for a while tonight and provided a great deal of amusement for them. We played a really cool WWII shooting game tonight, which is kind enough to tell you your shooting accuracy. Mine is 0%. This was after a humiliating game of Grand Theft Auto III, in which my main skill seemed to involve walking directly into poles, buildings, and police cars. I am uncool.

If the aliens attack and there aren't enough guns, I think it's ok if I don't get one. I'm also crossing Car Thief off my list of potential careers.
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Monday, November 04, 2002

Sara: Oh, great, she's making lists.

I ordered some invitation paper to play with. I got solid forest green cards and I'm going to sew white cards to them with sage green silk topstitching thread. Unless that looks stupid. I really hope it doesn't look stupid.

I'm not the slightest bit freaked out that the wedding is six months away. Really, I'm not. At all. However, I do seem to have a bit of nervous energy all of a sudden, so I've put together this little list of things I'd like to accomplish between now and Christmas:

    In no particular order:
  1. Find shoes, so I can figure out the skirt length.
  2. Decide what to put on my head, and how to make it, if neccessary. Requires trip to bridal salon for shopping, and possibly General Bead for supplies.
  3. Finish bodice muslin (I am so close!!), start sewing actual fabric.
  4. Figure out how to decorate the reception, so I can be on the lookout for useful stuff.
  5. Go to the Jessica McClintock outlet to look for a top for Ryan/fabric for tablecloths/cheap lace for petticoat. Also probably trip to Britex for really wide horsehair braid for hems.
  6. Start sewing invitations (if that works out).
  7. Start designing program.
  8. Figure out catering.
  9. Drink margaritas.

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Sunday, November 03, 2002

Sara: The return of BrideAudit

I was so delighted with the response to BrideAudit, I decide to code up a little demo:


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Sara: Shacked Up AND We Got Ourselves a Convoy

I've been living with Dennis for a month now, and I have to say, it's wonderful. There's still a lot of stuff that isn't unpacked, I STILL haven't assembled the dresser my parents bought us at Ikea last month, and overall I don't know that I'm 'settled' (for example, I'm down to my last sewing machine needle because I don't know where my stash of them is), but I'm ridiculously happy.

I think I like our mornings the best. Dennis gets up much earlier than I do, so he can write, and then I get woken up and gently eased into the day. Frequently, he goes to the cafe around the corner for coffee while I get showered and dressed, and then we go off to work. We ride to his office together, which is always so fun. The conversation is usually a little odd or silly and it just makes me happy to be alive. Then we kiss goodbye and I set off for my hour-long commute down 880. I really don't mind the commute, though. It's worth it if it means I come back to this little bubble of a home. Once I'm here, not very much else matters.

It also helps that I look forward to going to work - I don't know if I could do that commute if I still worked at Excite. The meaninglessness would catch up to me pretty quick if I had to spend that much freeway time to get to a place I didn't like to do things that I wasn't proud of. The fact that I love my job goes a long way towards taking the sting out of the commute. Especially since I've learned my lesson about picking up a 44oz. Diet Coke for the trip. That is just a bad, bad idea when one could be stuck in one place for 20 minutes or so and one does not have a trucker-style relief tube in the car.
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