I was up at 7 AM... another five hour night for Angela, but there's always the option of an afternoon nap, which - I must confess - is one of my favorite things. Besides, I made up my mind to get a few things accomplished this morning, since it's gorgeous outside right now and Michigan weather can change at the drop of a hat.

Despite the fact that cleaning sounded like about as much fun as dental surgery, I forced myself to clean the house last night. I was on the verge of crawling in bed for the night when Dave mentioned that he didn't have any clean shirts for work today... which prompted me to start the laundry and once I got myself motivated to do that, I vacummed, swept, scrubbed, changed the bedding, loaded and unloaded the dishwasher, etc., etc., etc...

Mind you, the dogs have already tracked dirty paw prints across the clean linoleum and I had to vacuum again this morning because Mulder tracked in clumps of mud and strategically placed them across the living room carpet. *Sigh*

I dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, stepped out on the back deck and was pleasantly surprised to find that I had no need of a jacket or a sweatshirt. Armed with my trusty pooper scooper and bucket, I surveyed the job ahead of me and thought to myself:

Wow, it could be a bit difficult to spot all the poo piles, what with all the dead leaves scattered across the lawn... Oh wait, there aren't any leaves. Well, that simplifies things. Right?

It took me an hour. The dogs helped by sitting outside with me, barking at every car that drove by and mock fighting. When I was finished cleaning the backyard, I pulled all the rest of the firewood from the trunk of Dave's car... where he put it to transport it home this summer, and that was as far as it got. How perverse is that? Whenever I built campfires in my freestanding firepit, I pulled the wood - piece by piece - out of the trunk of Dave's car because I never could get myself quite motivated enough to pull all of it out at once and stack it in the backyard. Again... *Sigh*

Stacking what was left of the firewood properly and covering it with a tarp for winter storage, I glanced over and spotted the dryer vent. I'd been asking Dave to check it - since it's been taking two or three complete cycles to dry a single load of clothes and I was thinking this might be a result of a clogged vent. Dave hasn't been able to do much of anything this week. He's put in a 70 hour work week, chipped away at several huge homework assignments and slept for a couple of hours each night (and when I say "a couple", I literally mean that the man only gets to sleep for two or three hours between when he finishes his homework and when he has to get back up and head off for the next shift at the restaurant).

Studying the dryer vent, it didn't seem to me to be anything that would take a rocket scientist to disassemble. I pulled it apart and - my God - I really am amazed we didn't have some manner of house fire. The vent was packed tight with a combination of lint, dog hair and wads of paper (because when Kris launders his clothing, he tend to do so with homework assignments in his pockets, which then disintegrate in the washer and get transferred - by Kris - to the dryer). In the midst of this tight packed ball of lint, I found other odds and ends which had clearly been laundered in Kris's pockets... the most interesting of which appeared to be half of a pencil.

I cleared out the dryer vent and the tube (at least as far back as I could reach), then I started the process of hauling the two larger Christmas trees from the storage shed into the house. It may seem a little early, but I like to do that before the snow sets in, because the trees are so heavy and the hill that I have to traverse in order to get them from the shed into the house is a little on the precarious side.

Which brings me to the current moment. I sent Dave off to work at 10 AM... the one day of the week when he hasn't had to open the restaurant, and I'm thinking a shower might be the next order of business... given my recent adventures in poop land.

I think I'll work on my cross-stitch project after that, if anyone needs me and is wondering what I'm up to. I should set up the trees at some point in the day today... though I have to wait for Dave before I can pull out any ornaments. Dave has made it clear that he would really like to be part of that this year. I've set up trees and decorated with no one to keep my company but the dogs for the last 5 years. Last Christmas, I did most all of the decorating while Dave was at work and never gave it any thought... I was just so conditioned to do it on my own... and he expressed a little disappointment when he came home and found the house decorated, so... I'm making a point to wait for him this year, though he told me on his way out the door that he has (at least) two hours worth of homework when he gets home tonight, and after that, he's free to decorate (and strangely geeked about the prospect, too).

If I set up the trees while he's at work today, then they should be ready for ornaments when he's finished with his homework tonight. There's nothing particularly fun or festive about wrestling the various parts of the tree together... so I should be able to do that without worrying that he'll feel as though he's missed out on anything special. I did warn him that I am the obsessive compulsive decorator... When it comes to my Christmas decorations (particularly, my Christmas trees) there is a place for everything. This tree skirt goes with this tree, this tree topper goes with this tree, these ornaments go on this tree... and there's no arguing with me. I'm very inflexible.

I also warned him that there are traditions that must be observed and, again, variations of any kind are not acceptible. For example, the trees have to go up and be decorated before the rest of the house, and you have to listen to Christmas music while you decorate them.

"No problem." He told me last night. "You can put Christmas music on now if you like."

"No!" I scoffed. "You can't listen to Christmas music BEFORE you decorate the Christmas trees. You have to listen to Christmas music while you decorate the trees and that has to be the inaugural Christmas music of the season. That's how it has to be!"

I might just scare this poor guy away yet!

Yesterday was Dave's day off, so I put him the car and we headed over to HHQ. We got there before lunch, since I was playing Ms Insomniac again last night. I may have mentioned that my wedding dress arrived in the mail a few days ago. I was anxious to try it on - not that it matters because it has been tailor-made for me and I can't possibly send it back, even if it doesn't fit.

The length was perfect, and the dress itself has a corset-style lace-up back, which I purchased because it allows for slight size changes without requiring alteration... but unfortunately, it takes two people to get you laced into the thing. Mom began the process and eventually enlisted Dave's help. The dress should be fine, though it is modest and super simple. This is a whole new experience for me. I never went to a single dance in high school, and even my first wedding was extremely informal, so this is the first formal dress that I've ever purchased (and the first dress that I've ever owned that was made to my specifications). Oddly enough, I found myself staring at my reflection and wondering if I'd made the wrong choice.

There is this childish idea in the back of my mind that all brides are supposed to be gorgeous. Now, my logical mind understands that it is unreasonable (arguably impossible) for ALL brides to be gorgeous, because plain people get married too. Maybe I subconsciously bought into the hype... that the dress would arrive and I would put it on, and that I would be miraculously transformed somehow.

Of course... as the ever wise Beavis and Butthead pointed out, you can put a turd in a leather jacket, but it's still a turd. Not that I'm insinuating I'm a turd by any means, but the fact remains. I put on the dress that I picked out and, yes... I picked that dress specifically because it was ME. Not unlike Jane Eyre, when faced with the prospect of selecting a dress, I found myself staring at all of the elaborate styles and thinking to myself: But, I'm no beauty. I shouldn't like to be dressed as though I were.

So I picked out a gown that was modest and simple, put it on and when I glanced up at my reflection, I saw a plain, plump little woman in a respectable-looking white dress... not terrifically different from the plain, plump little woman that I'd spotted in the same mirror minutes before, wearing blue jeans and a FLETC t-shirt. For myself, I was amply satisfied, but as Dave continued the process of lacing up the back, I found that I was feeling inadequate on his account.

Maybe I should have selected something more elaborate, I thought to myself. Isn't the bride supposed to... like... take the groom's breath away when he sees her? I'm not liable to take his breath away - or anyone else's, for that matter - not in any dress that I might have selected. As he continued the long process of braiding the ribbon through the silk loops, I remembered the photos of his last wedding.

There is no doubt that Marcy made a much prettier bride. Marcy is a much prettier woman and I'll own it. I'd like to think that I compensate for my appearance in other ways... that Dave is able to overlook the fact that I'm plain and will be happy to marry me, even if I only make a respectable (and not particularly breathtaking) bride. Mom asked him what he thought of the dress and he said he approved... though I feel compelled to point out that he is smart enough not to say anything, even if he is a little disappointed or finds himself thinking that the dress isn't exactly flattering.

There were points over the course of the evening when I felt I should ask him if he was a little disappointed in how plain I looked, but I always thought better of it. I am neurotic, after all, and it isn't always necessary to express it.

Dave stayed up until 1 AM, putting the finishing touched on a homework assignment. As you can imagine, 4:30 AM came early and he reset his alarm for 4:45. After two rounds of chimming, I was wide awake and I pulled myself out of bed to help him get ready for work. I packed up the laptop (which he needed for work today) and cut up some of the apple bread that Mom gave us last night, so that he could grab a slice or two for breakfast.

Once he was off, I sat down at the computer to devote a little time to the website.

On Sunday night, I asked Dave to help me construct a website for my publication company. It might seem a little premature, since the book itself is only in the production stage (and not very far along at that), but I find myself financially limited at the moment, so I'm turning my attention to the marketing aspects that require time and effort, but not money.

Dave found a proper web host and I claimed my domain name. The web address of the site is www.flawedflower.com. I've added what I can to the site, seeing as I don't actually have a product to market as yet. I welcome you all to take a look and see what you think, but warn you that the content is a little on the sparse side right now. There are many other things that I would like to do with the site before it's all said and done (i.e. adding links to blogs, facebook, myspace, other writing-related sites, perhaps music). For the moment, however, this will have to suffice.

After I'd finished tweaking the website, I turned my attention to a company email. I find that I like gmail the best, so I secured a new email account through google. The email address is flawedflower@gmail.com. Unfortunately, the company email account brought the total number of my email addresses to five (personal and work-related accounts) and that's just too many accounts to check and passwords to remember. Since I no longer use angela.scheer@gmail.com, I decided it was time to retire it. I'd like to get rid of at least one of my hotmail accounts as well, since I only ever use the one to log on to MSN instant messenger and chat.

As Dave would say, it's time to purge.

Dave had the day off yesterday, so we stuffed the dogs into the Saturn and took them over to HHQ for bath day! The commute was the only miserable part of the venture, and when we arrived, I found my mother in the midst of a frenzy of baking.

It's that time of year again when the apple trees produce a ridiculous amount of fruit, so everything comes with apples at HHQ this week. We had apple crisp for dessert last night, Mom sent us home with a loaf of apple bread and I'm bound for HHQ today to help can applesauce.

I haven't made any progress (as yet) on the videographer, nor have I worked on the proofreading that has been sitting on my nightstand - untouched - since we returned from the upper peninsula. Just when I make up my mind to turn my attention to it, I find myself falling asleep while sitting up. These early mornings with Dave are quickly wearing me out (and I'm not the one who's actually trudging off to work at this insane time of the morning)!

It's 3 AM and - though I'm fighting sleep a little - I hauled myself out of bed to work on the laundry. Just before bed last night, Dave discovered that he had no clean work clothes... he threw a load in the washer and when Scully woke me at 2:30 (because she felt the urgent need to go out in the backyard with Mulder and sniff around), I opted to stay up for a while. I pulled a finished load of clothing out of the dryer and I'm currently drying Dave's work clothing, so he doesn't have to scramble to do so when his alarm goes off at 4:45.

He's opening the restaurant again this morning. He hates opening, which - I strongly suspect - is why he's been moved to the opening shift this month. I'm conscious that this is a public forum, however, so I'll keep my unsupported suspicions to myself. Suffice it to say that yesterday was just the sort of day that reminds Dave why he's going to college and seeking work in a different field altogether.

Yesterday was Sweetest Day, which I forgot. It was lost to me in a wave of working and debilitating headaches. I dusted and decorated Dave's house for Halloween last weekend, then ventured over to HHQ and did some dusting while I was there waiting for Mom and Dad to get back from PT (since my mother's allergies are severe enough to make dusting miserable for her). Unfortunately, I seem to have got my allergies aggravated and I've been suffering from stupidly irritating sinus headaches ever since.

Not that it's any excuse. Dave brought home a box of chocolates and the most beautiful card. I apologized to him for forgetting and he was extraordinarily magnanimous about the whole thing. Shrugged it off and said it was a Hallmark holiday anyway and that I'm not expected to remember those.

"Besides." He said. "I work with women, who remind me of these things... whereas you work with men, who don't."

We went grocery shopping, which is the customary activity on the first night of my weekend, and I bought him dinner (albeit at Subway). I'm sure it was a disappointing evening for him, but being scheduled in at the restaurant at 5 AM severely limited our activities.

The wedding update isn't nearly as interesting as last week's. Dave asked his friend - the videographer - if he would videotape the wedding and Matt was unwilling to help us out with that... said something about having a bad experience at a wedding before. Big Jim visited HHQ this week and told Mom that he knew someone... unfortunately, when Jim checked, his videographer "doesn't do weddings anymore" either... so no real progress was made in my quest for a videographer, and the project for this week is finding one.

The photographer, on the other hand, has been selected and booked. During one of my visits to Gram Hume last week, she told me that she was going to get me a phone number for the photographer who did "Casey's" wedding... though, I must confess, I still don't have the slightest clue who Casey is.

"It's still going to cost you a thousand dollars, but this photographer will give you a disk with all the pictures on it, so you won't have to spend hundreds more on purchasing prints!" She told me.

I returned home and lamented to Dave because, while the idea of getting all the photos on a disk was certainly appealing to me, I still didn't have a thousand dollars to put into a photographer... not when you calculate all the other expenses. Dave has a friend from high school who offered to photograph the wedding for much, much less. The only issue is that we looked at her work and... well, I just wasn't wild about it. He mentioned that she sent him a message again last week, offering her services.

"All right." I conceded. "Let's look at her work again and see if it hasn't improved upon me."

Dave googled the name of his friend's photo company and clicked on the link that came up. The first thing I noticed is that the entire site was different. I shrugged it off (after all, people update their sites all the time) and Dave started scrolling through the pictures that were posted there.

The second thing I noticed is that the photos were infinitely improved. They were so much better that I couldn't comprehend why she had ever posted the first batch to begin with. At the top of the page, there was a link to a price list... and the pricing was so reasonable that it was almost too good to be true. I told Dave that I wanted him to book her to photograph the wedding as quickly as possible and when he clicked on the email link, he hesitated.

"Who the hell is that?" I heard him mutter. At the top of the email page was a short bio and a picture of the photographer. That's when he realized that he was not looking at his friend's website at all, but a similarly named photo company from downstate. We contacted the photographer and asked if she would be willing to come all the way up here to photographer the wedding - which she was willing to do, and she tacked on the amount that she would want for travel expenses to her estimate. We booked her for the date of the wedding and I'm superbly relieved to have that taken care of.

The house is clean, the dogs are walked and I'm halfway through the mountain of laundry. I'm trying to buy a little time before I serve lunch to the dogs. They're accustomed to eating around 1 PM, so 11 AM is just a little too early. If I can delay them until noon, I'll be content.

In keeping with the trend this weekend, I was up at 5 AM. Dave's alarm went off at 4:30 and... VIOLA!... my day began. Dave phoned me at about 5:30 and invited me to join him at the restaurant for breakfast. I wasn't extraordinarily hungry, but that's never stopped me before (see Exhibit A... middle age spread).

I cleaned the guest room yesterday, but that was all I accomplished with my day... unless you count the fact that I looked through thousands and thousands of bridesmaid dresses in the hopes of finding one that met all of the criteria. Amanda sent me pictures of several dresses and, from those, I chose the one I liked best... but the more I thought about it, the more discontent I became with my choice. It was a lovely dress, and the perfect color, but it just wasn't the right style. I deliberately picked a wedding dress that had a early 1900's look to it, and the contemporary look of the bridesmaid dresses just didn't match.

So, after looking through two to three thousand dresses, I was able to find one... just one... that met the criteria (came in a similar style to my wedding dress, had sleeves, and came in the appropriate sizes). Imagine my dismay when Dave brought it to my attention that the dress did not come in the right color. I had selected a very subdued and elegant gold color for the bridesmaids, but the closest thing I could purchase in this particular dress was tangerine (i.e. orange). Dave pulled up a picture of the vests and ties that the groomsmen would be wearing if we changed the color to tangerine, and it was so hideous that I recoiled, so...

I went back to the drawing board and searched through a couple hundred more dresses before I found one that came in a similar style, had sleeves, came in the appropriate sizes and came in the right color. * Sigh * It was an all day project.

I'm now 340-some days from the wedding, and my preparations are moving at a steady pace. My dress is ordered and paid for. They are making it to my specifications, so it should be ready this month or next. The rings are purchased and the hall is reserved. Dave, Mom and I have selected a menu for the reception. I've purchased gifts for the bridesmaids and Dave has purchased gifts for the groomsmen. I haven't had half as much trouble with the rest of my preparations combined as I've had with the bridesmaid dresses, but Dave already has the tuxs picked out.

I'm currently scouring the land for a reasonably priced photographer and videographer. The going rate for a professional photographer to photograph a wedding these days is $1000. The going rate for a videographer is $700-$900, so I'm pooling my resources. There are family members that I could ask, I know, but I really want all of my family members to be able to enjoy the wedding without having to worry about an assigned task (like taking photos or video taping). Dave has a friend that works for a video production company that makes corporate films for Dow, so I think he can be convinced to video tape the wedding. One of my coworkers has a sibling that photographs weddings, so I'm waiting to hear back on what she will charge.

But I went off on a tangent. I was going to tell you about the bridal party, which has changed more times than the bridesmaid dresses. Initially, I asked Jessica, Amanda and my friend Elizabeth to be bridesmaids. I wanted to keep the bridal party small... no more than four attendants on each side... which made it impossible for me to ask Elizabeth and Emily (since I couldn't ask one and not the other, and then if I asked both, I would want to ask Noelle too, or she would be hurt and... ee gads!).

Dave was adamant that he needed four groomsmen: Murph, Steve, Scott and Frank. He asked Murph, Steve and Scott right off the bat, and while he waited for the right time to ask Frank, I tried to figure out what to do about the final bridesmaid.

What was really bothering me was the fact that I couldn't have Ryan in the wedding, and Dave already had four groomsmen, so I decided... forget convention... and I asked Ryan to be a bridesman (yes, a bridesMAN). I planned to put him in the same tux as the groomsmen and he would stand on my side as a bridal attendant. He agreed and it seemed as though the issue was solved...

Until Frank came over for Guys Night and caused a huge argument that resulted in everyone storming out. Part of the reason Dave refrained from asking Frank is because their friendship has been strained and, with this most recent blow up, Dave decided that he no longer wants to ask Frank at all. Dave's other good friend is Val, Scott's wife, so I suggested that he invite her to be a bridesmaid...

Which means Ryan gets shuffled over with the rest of the groomsmen and I have four bridesmaids. Problem solved.

After the photographer and videographer are secured, it's on to the invitations (which I've selected. The sample came in the mail a couple of days ago and I just need to place the order), the cake, the DJ and the flowers. At the rate I'm currently going though, I might just get everything in place before the day of the wedding.

It's pushing 6 AM and I've been sitting at the computer since 5. I could pretend that it's by choice, but most anyone who might be motivated to read this journal would also know me well enough to know better. I'm determined to take advantage of this current bout of insomnia, because hey... insomnia really only has a negative connotation if we don't make proper use of the time, right? I've been meaning to write a letter to my grandparents (since I have vacation photos to mail to them) and my list of projects for the weekend is growing.

With the potential (albeit small) for snow today, the first item on the list was stowing away all of the lawn furniture and the freestanding firepit. Dave offered to help me with this when he arrived home from work last night, but I opted not to wait for him... for a couple of reasons. First of all, the shed required some creative shuffling in order to make room for the firepit and I wasn't keen on the idea of attempting to reorganize it in the late evening hours when the temperature outside would surely be plummeting.

And then there was the fact that Dave would not be arriving home from work before dark, and moving the firepit into the shed involved crossing the doggy mine field. It was a crap shoot regardless (no pun intended), but I convinced myself that the chances of stepping into something disagreeable would be greatly reduced if I made the trek in daylight... so...

I wrestled the freestanding firepit to the shed, opened the door and stood there for several minutes, trying to warp space. Without a basement for storage, we've systematically filled the shed with plastic crates, furniture that we have no space for (but are - as yet - unwilling to part with), not to mention the customary items that one stores in a shed, like the lawnmower, weed whipper, rakes, shovels, gas cans, odds and ends from home improvement projects, and my bicycle. I somehow managed to clear a spot, and I successfully wrestled the firepit into the shed without injuring anything that I might wish to make use of at a later date... so I was able to scratch the first item off the list.

I'm gearing up to move on to the second. With such limited living space inside Dave's house, the guest bedroom has become the dumping ground for objects that require temporary storage or projects that are partially completed. Dave collected a couple of CPU's that he needed to scrap for parts, which we've shuffled into the guest room temporarily. I also cleaned out the closets and piled all of the clothing in there (to be packed up for storage or sent off to Goodwill). Dave's new art project got shuffled in there for safekeeping, as did all of the supplies that he needs to continue to work on it, and the room isn't that big to begin with. With the cold temperatures setting in, I'm not going to be inclined to take morning jogs, so I really need to be able to make use of the treadmill that I've stowed in there.

I would also like to be able to use the guest bedroom as... well, a guest bedroom. When we have guests, I want them to have somewhere nice to sleep.

Beyond that, the agenda for the coming day is up in the air. There is a visitation at the funeral home that I want to attend. I'm not sure I've mentioned Peggy, the Lt's administrative assistant, but her father recently passed and visitation was set up for yesterday evening. I finished stowing the firepit, came inside and showered. I pulled out some nice clothing and decided to walk down to the end of the driveway to retrieve the mail before I started getting ready to depart for the funeral home (so as not to risk getting mud on me).

I stepped outside and realized that I had no car. Dave's muffler pipe let go and he needs to take it to a mechanic and get it fixed, but the car is too loud to drive without risking a traffic fine, so he took my car to work yesterday. The first item on his agenda today is to get his muffler repaired, but until he completes that task, he and I are sharing one roadworthy vehicle.

We need to get him a new car, but I had been hoping to put it off until after the wedding, when the timing will be a little more convenient for us (financially speaking).

Dave arrived home from work last night at 8:30 PM, which was too late for me to make it to the visitation in Mt Pleasant (it ended at 9 PM). We grabbed dinner, picked up some badly needed groceries and then returned home so that Dave could devote the rest of the evening to homework. He had a massive powerpoint presentation and an exam, both due the same day, so he opted to get the exam out of the way. The chapter that he needed to read was 70 pages long, then he had to complete a pre-test, a study guide and take the exam. He finally finished and came to bed at 4:45 AM, which is what woke me and - indirectly - why I find myself composing this uncommonly trite journal entry.

He's worried. One of the other managers phoned him last night (while we were at the grocery store) to advise him that an essential kitchen employee called in for today. Unless they find someone else to come in... well, suffice it to say that Dave has a feeling he's going to have to work today, and he left the larger assignment (the powerpoint presentation) for today and Tuesday...

It's due Tuesday night, so losing a portion of today will be disasterous to his homework schedule. The possibility of being called in to work is also going to affect my plans for the day. It effectively prevents Dave from venturing out of Sparkle City, and until he gets his vehicle repaired, it also prevents me from doing so (because my car needs to be available to him).

So... when Dave starts to feel oppressed and overwhelmed by his college courses, I remind him of moments like these. Days like today (when his life has been put on hold by the restaurant) are why he opted to go back to school in the first place. Not unlike my insomnia, the demands of the restaurant only have a negative connotation if we don't make constructive use of them.

And I prefer to see this as an invaluable source of motivation.

As I sit here at my station, waiting for my coworkers to decide that they're ready to break bread together, I can't help thinking that I need a little less drama in my day. I arrived at work to find my coworkers in the midst of a kidnapping investigation, which has usurped much of my time since I clocked in two hours ago. Hard to believe this is the portion of my day that has been marginally relaxing.

I haven't slept well during the work week. I've only managed to eke out five or six hours of sleep each day, which might sound sufficient for most of the world, but is wholely inefficient for a Havens. I left work feeling drained this morning, but was optomistic. Dave opened the restaurant this morning, so I was clinging to the knowledge that I would be able to go straight home and crawl into bed in an empty, silent house. My optomism was not deterred by the fact that I was fifteen minutes late getting out to the building, and then I had to sit in my car for another fifteen minutes before I was able to scrape the hard frost from my windshield. By the time I made the commute, took care of the dogs and settled in to bed, I was an hour behind schedule. I had just closed my eyes when I heard loud knocking on the back door.

Snatching my bathrobe, I hurried through the house to find Kris at the door with a friend of his named Tyler. I was vaguely aware that Kris had a friend visiting for the weekend. Jenny gave Kris permission to invite his friend over for the weekend, and then promptly called Dave on Friday evening, wanting Dave to retrieve Kris and Tyler and remove them to our house for the weekend.

Dave was buried in homework and had to open early in the morning. He told Jenny that he couldn't possibly entertain Kris and Tyler while simultaneously completing his homework. Jenny put Kris on the phone and Dave promised Kris that he would swing by after work today (Saturday) and then they could spend the night at our house tonight (since Dave would have a clear homework schedule and didn't have to be to work until later in the morning on Sunday).

Since the plan was for Dave to pick up Kris and Tyler in the evening (i.e. after I'd caught some sleep), you can imagine my surprise when they turned up on my doorstep at 9 AM. I opened the door and Kris greeted me awkwardly. It was clear to me as I spoke with him that he was as confused by developments as I was.

"My mom said that I was supposed to come over a few hours early." He advised me. "She said that Dad would be out of work at 1 PM today."

"Your dad won't be out of work until 4 PM at the earliest." I explained, trying to make the whole situation less uncomfortable. "But make yourself at home. We're a little shy on food because it's grocery day tomorrow, but you can eat anything you can scavenge. I'm sorry that I have to leave you to your own devices, but I worked last night and I have to work again tonight. I really have to go to bed, but knock on the door if you need anything."

That said, I crawled back in bed and tried to sleep, but was unable to do so. The boys pulled out the Wii and played Wii games all day. They tried their best to be quiet, but I'm such a light sleeper and the walls are paper thin. I struggled to eke out an hour of sleep, between their muffled voices and the dogs barking every couple of minutes. The pups were unsettled by the guest in the house and barked at every car that passed by... as if expecting that someone would be stopping to retrieve Tyler at any moment.

When my sleeping endeavors weren't being hampered by the muffled voices or the dogs barking, I found that I was seething with anger and animosity. At first, I was annoyed that Gary and Jenny would deliberately send the boys over to the house, knowing that I was there and that I was trying to sleep, but then I tried to give them the benefit of the doubt. I told myself: "Hey, maybe they didn't know that I was here and that I was trying to sleep", but that just made it worse... because if they didn't know that I was there sleeping, then it meant that they sent those boys over without even knowing that they would have any way to get into the house or anyone to look after them.

At noon, I wandered out to feed the dogs and to ascertain Kris and Tyler's lunch plans. They didn't seem to have any, so I suggested that they order pizza from the only restaurant that will deliver to the house and offered to pay for it. Kris had some money of his own and insisted on paying himself, though he was a little shy on tip money, so I dug up four dollars for a tip and headed back to bed. I did ask Kris to let the dogs out when they'd finished eating, and Kris was kind enough to look after the dogs until Dave arrived home in the evening.

When Dave arrived home at 5 PM, he promptly started the process of sorting out the... misunderstanding (if you could call it that). Apparently, Gary woke Kris and Tyler at 8 AM, told them to get their stuff together and hurried them out to a county bus at 8:10 AM. Jenny had suggested (the previous evening) that it would be a good idea for them to come over early, so Kris was operating under the assumption that they was expected. When Dave confronted Jenny about it, however, she claimed the whole thing was Kris's idea and that Kris had lied to her about the arrangements. When Jenny spoke to Kris, she lied to him and blamed the entire misunderstanding on Dave.

Typical Jenny.

Jenny offered an apology to Dave, but he told her that empty apologies don't always make things better.

"Besides." He told her. "You can apologize to me all you want, but Angela is the one who got little sleep today, and she has to work a twelve hour shift on a busy Saturday night. She's the only dispatcher tonight and, to be frank, I'm worried about her making the drive home safely."

Problem is, Kris was hearing this conversation. Dave makes it a point to have Kris with him when he has these kinds of conversations with Jenny, because Jenny is a pathological liar and if Kris doesn't know the content of the conversation, Jenny will take the opportunity to lie and make Dave out to be the villain. Kris was beside himself by the time the conversation was over. Not only was he upset that Jenny was lying to him - again - but then he felt terrible that he and Tyler had kept me awake all day. Once again, something that should be so simple was made into a huge, unnecessary drama. The kid just wanted to have a friend over for the weekend. He didn't need the embarrassment of being shuffled around like a piece of baggage, and it angers me to tears when I think that he's ever made to feel like that, let alone when you add the additional embarrassment that comes with being treated like that in front of a friend.

And then I keep thinking how fun it must have been for them, to have to try to keep quiet all day while I slept (or attempted to sleep) and the whole thing just frustrated me on every level. Before I left for work, I made sure I pulled Kris aside and reminded him that he's welcome to come over at any time - whether I'm sleeping or not - and that he had nothing to feel bad about. I thanked him for being so quiet and for looking after the dogs for me. Not sure it will make much of a difference, but I'd hate it if he were feeling bad on my account.

Dave made dinner for them and they were just finishing up when I left for work. Dave was planning to build a computer tonight, but I'm hoping he devotes some of his time and attention to the boys. I asked Dave to make a quick run to the grocery store - to get some soda and snacks for them - and he just sent me a text message to let me know that he tried to go to the store, but his vehicle is having a major issue of some kind and he can't safely take it from the driveway until we get it into a mechanic.

Oddly enough, I find myself surprisingly unphased by this newest crisis. I'll worry about it tomorrow. I've met my quota of drama for today.

My Gram Hume always says that she's "jigging in a bushel basket" when she is jumping from activity to activity, without necessarily completing anything. Dave has to open the restaurant tomorrow, which means that he has three more hours to sleep, so I'm trying to be quiet as I scamper about the house... juggling several different projects.

Dave and I purchased a digital video camera on the day of the big open house (and yes, that was back in July). We weren't actually able to make use of it, however, until our vacation to the U.P. (since I needed a little time to learn how to work the blasted thing). Now that I've figured out how to record with the new camera, I borrowed the external DVD burner from Mom and Dad, so that I can convert all of my old home videos into DVD format. There is only one problem with this scenario... my old camera records on 8 mm tapes.

Now, in theory, I should be able to hook the camera into the side of the DVD burner and burn what is on the tape to disc... but alas, my camera is too old to be compatible. So, I have to convert the 8 mm tapes to normal VHS tapes, and then I can convert them to DVD from there. Naturally, the quality of the image is somewhat degraded, but I can live with it...

So, that's what I've been working on tonight. I should be able to finish the project tomorrow (I hope), but it's slow going (for obvious reasons). While I'm working on the 8 mm/VHS/DVD conversion, I'm also working on several loads of laundry... and trimming the dogs' toe nails. Mulder and Scully are finished, but Grim is still getting used to the process and I generally only clip the nails on one paw at a time... then I give him a few minutes to run around so that he doesn't feel as though he is being cornered or confined (which is what he hates so much about having his toe nails clipped).

Unfortunately, I only made it through three paws before he curled up and went to sleep, so the last paw will have to wait until tomorrow, I guess.

I spent the day with Mom at Gram Hume's. Gram has been after me to help her clean out her guest rooms (and sun room) for weeks now. I've cleaned and organized these same rooms for my Grandmother multiple times (and I'm not the only one. So has my mother, my sister, my brother and my Aunt Mary). The problem is, you clear all of the clutter away and Gram has this compulsive need to fill it again... so I've put this off as long as possible.

Mom was free today, so she made the trek to Gram's to assist me. We started in the LEAST cluttered room and after six hours had made very little progress (which frustrated me significantly). Gram just wasn't in the mood to clean - despite the fact that she's mentioned that she wants me to clean those rooms every time that I've visted for several solid months - she just wanted to sit and chat, which hampered our efforts. I reorganized the pantry (which I organized in March of this year), reorganized the closet, cleaned out/off the vanity and organized a gigantic box of greeting cards for Gram while Mom organized the bureau.

Even with all of that, we'd barely made a dent, and every time I attempted to get rid of something that was clearly junk or garbage (for example, food in the pantry that was outdated by months or years), Gram objected.

It just wasn't a good day to work at Gram's. Gram gets in the mood to get rid of things and that's when you're liable to make progress... the problem is that Gram is a packrat by nature, and is NOT inclined to get rid of junk 95-99 % of the time. Mom and I just pick a day when we can clean and hope like hell that Gram is in the right mood.

More often than not, the process is as painful as it was today (which is another reason why I procrastinate when she asks me to help her clean out her guest rooms).

* Sigh *

In other news, I've accomplished very little since Dave and I returned from vacation. I haven't been able to work on my proofreading at all, and I haven't caught up on the housework. I did work on Friday and Saturday, but slept all of Sunday away (recovering from a killer migraine). I should have plenty of time to catch up on things tomorrow, though... since my current extreme state of poverty is keeping me close to home.

Vacations always strain the budget, especially budgets as tight as Dave and mine. We returned from the U.P. with a couple of days of vacation at our disposal, and since it is almost impossible to coordinate my schedule with Dave's, it seemed an ideal time to tour the facility that I was looking to reserve for the wedding and the reception.

I called the coordinator and was surprised to find that the entire month of September 2010 was nearly booked up. By sheer lucky chance, the only Saturday that was open was the 25th (which was the day that Dave selected for the wedding), but it was apparent to me that we needed to reserve the hall as quickly as possible before we lost the date.

I invited Mom to join us and she met Dave and I at the hall. We reserved the date, but it required a $500 security deposit, which effectively decimated my finances for the rest of the week. Just the same, we've reserved the facility (which includes a chapel for the wedding and a hall for the reception). They're making my dress right now and it should be ready within the next few weeks. The rings are purchased, sized and paid for. I had been thinking that invitations would be next on the list, but given the fact that I was nearly too late to book the hall, I'm thinking the next sensible step will be to engage the services of a photographer, a videographer, a DJ... the people who might be booked up and unavailable if I wait until closer to the wedding.

I'm not as worried about the cake and the flowers... bakeries and flower shops are generally able to provide services to more than one wedding per day... though it is on the agenda. Talking to my mother the other day, she mentioned that it's getting to the time when the bridesmaids need to think about ordering their dresses.

I hadn't thought of that. As of this moment, there are 361 days left to the wedding. It would seem like plenty of time... and I hope it is. I find that money is the single biggest determining factor - as far as the timing of my preparations. I would have all the major preparations taken care of by the end of next month, if I had an indefinite supply of cash... and I'm finding that (thus far) the most stressful part of planning the wedding is prioritizing the preparations and getting the money together to make them happen in a reasonably timely fashion.

Such is life, eh?

September 16, 2009:

It's now 4 AM on Wednesday morning. Dave and I made it to the cabin around 9 PM last night. True to his word, Uncle Ray was waiting for us when we arrived. He watched the dogs while we unloaded the van and then gave Dave the grand tour of the house, pointing out all the little quirks of the place…

Things that I would not have known, since this is my first visit it – at least – five years.
We all turned in around 11 PM. Though I was able to doze for an hour or two, I find myself wide awake. It’s not insomnia and it isn’t that I’m not tired enough to sleep. The dogs just haven’t settled in yet and they have been unwilling to accommodate me in my attempts to sleep. I was hoping to arrive before dark, so that the dogs could explore their new environment, but Dave didn’t get out of work until 3 PM, and then it was 4 PM before we were able to get on the road. We completed our journey – with three potty breaks – at 8:45, but fall is fast approaching and the days are getting shorter. It was well after dark by the time we pulled in the driveway.

Here’s hoping the vacation itself goes a little bit more smoothly than the preparations. I worked until Sunday morning and spent Sunday evening with Gram. Dave had three more homework assignments looming and the original plan was for him to complete them on Sunday night and Monday. He was too burned out to compose a coherent sentence on Sunday night, so he opted for an early bedtime…

Which brings us to Monday. Dave was kind enough to assist me in some of my vacation preparations. We washed and vacuumed the Saturn, dropped it off at HHQ and borrowed the van, then we stopped at the store on the way home and purchased all the groceries that we would need for our trek. That completed, the rest of Dave’s evening was devoted to homework, while I began the ever delightful packing process… which starts with laundering most every piece of clothing in the house.

Dave was only able to complete one of the three homework assignments that he needed to turn in over the course of our vacation. He went to bed at 2 AM and had to be up at 4:30 AM for work. I caught a few sporadic hours of sleep, but woke every 45 minutes to move the laundry along, so we were both worn out before we even departed.

I spent the entire morning packing groceries, pet supplies and clothing. By noon, I launched into the traditional pre-vacation fit… because I have two pairs of jeans that fit me properly and I could only find one pair. I knew they weren’t in the laundry because I’d washed all the laundry. I checked my closet, my dresser drawers, Dave’s closet, Dave’s dresser drawers.

Eventually, I broke down and peered into Kris’s sty (I can’t even – in good conscience – call it a bedroom at this point). I could barely open the door, there were dirty dishes, pop cans, garbage and food packaging scattered across the room. The entire floor was covered in a mound of laundry, some dirty clothing and some clean clothing, and in the middle of this pile, I was able to locate my missing pair of jeans.

*Sigh*

Once we had the van packed and got on the road, things went more smoothly. I was anticipating a miserable car ride – since the 40 minutes trek to HHQ is the longest road trip that Grim has ever taken – but he seated himself in one of the seats and watched the passing scenery go by. I giggled every time I spotted him in the rearview mirror, looking stoic and positively human.

We stopped at one rest area near Gaylord, then again in Mackinaw City to grab dinner. Dave ordered chicken fries and – not only did we have to wait for them to hatch the chickens, slaughter them and prepare them – but we had to take out a small loan to pay for the food. Dave pulled my sandwich from the bag and we both marveled at it. Not sure I’ve ever seen a burger that tiny…

I blame the new trend in the food service industry… higher prices and much smaller portions, but I digress.

We didn’t have to stop again until Newberry, and we would have made it to the house without the additional detour, were it not for the fact that I was having a potty emergency. Despite Dave’s assurances to the contrary, I couldn’t help noticing that he was altogether uncomfortable with the idea of being “off the grid”. He monitored his Blackberry obsessively, desperately hoping that he would have cell phone reception at the cabin.

With the exception of a 15 minute nap, he spent the whole first half of the road trip staring at his Blackberry, trying to download some file that he received via email. I stopped making conversation after Gaylord, since it was clear that he wasn’t listening to me. He finally put the Blackberry down about twenty minutes before we reached the Mackinaw Bridge and I recapped all of the relevant portions of the conversation that he’d missed (Things like: “If you want to grab dinner, we should do it before we cross the bridge, because there won’t be much of an opportunity afterwards” and “This is the last rest stop for the next 90 miles”).

We’ll see how he fares.

Just to make things a little more interesting, we arrived at the cabin and I unpacked to discover that the only thing I forgot was my medication… and by “medication”, I mean my “happy pills”, because I always carry my migraine meds with me. I mentioned it to Dave before he went to bed and he’s adamant that we need to contact the doctor’s office and have a new prescription sent into the local pharmacy. I’ve assured him that it’s unnecessary… that I can survive without them for the week that we’ll be here… but I’m getting the impression that he wants me to have the medication… even if he has to rob the pharmacy to get it.

Boy, that would seem to imply something, wouldn’t it?

Thursday, September 17, 2009:

It’s just after midnight and Dave is sitting in one of the living room arm chairs, reading the sex advice out of an AARP magazine. We just finished our nightly rummy tournament and Dave won again tonight. We started the trend last night and I fared just as poorly.

While Dave skims the advice from the experts – as far as “How to increase your wife’s libido” – I’ve decided to bring my vacation journal up to date. Yesterday (or Wednesday, rather) was our first full day here and I didn’t get off to the best start. When Dave woke at 9 AM, I still hadn’t managed to fall asleep. The dogs, who were still unsettled, were determined to be in the immediate vicinity of… well, wherever I happened to be. So, Dave took the dogs and left me in the master bedroom to rest while he and Uncle Ray loaded Ray’s truck and trailer with wood and then took the grand tour of the pole barn and wooded acreage. They even started the 4-wheelers and took the dogs for a run in the woods. Scully and Mulder knew the drill, but (like so many thing that Grim is encountering this week) it was a first for Grimshaw. I caught two hours sleep before Ray departed and Dave ventured into the room to wake me for lunch. We had hamburgers, took Grim for another ride in the woods (since Scully and Mulder aren’t as young as they used to be and were…urm… a little sluggish after their first excursion).

When we returned from our foray into the woods, Dave and I decided to make a run to the grocery store in Newberry. We needed milk (one of the few things I was unwilling to transport from downstate) and dish soap. I wanted to get some over-the-counter medication for allergies, since I woke in the middle of the night and it seemed to me that one of my eyes was half-swollen shut from an allergic reaction to something. I also wanted to get some baby aspirin for the dogs, who seem bent on running and playing so hard that they cripple themselves.

At the grocery store, Dave spotted a $9 dollar canister of bug foam that was supposed to set up a barrier around you. He had spent a good portion of the afternoon in the woods with an axe, chopping up fallen limbs and trees for a campfire. We returned home in the early evening, grilled brats for dinner and then Dave went out to light the massive pile of wood that he had collected.

I couldn’t, in good conscience, referring to it as a “campfire”. It was too big for that, though Dave pointed out that it wasn’t large enough to qualify as a “bonfire”, so I guess we’ll just have to refer to it as a “pyre”. Scully and I seated ourselves by the leaping flames and Scully promptly collapsed into a borderline comatose state. She continued to snore in the grass while the bugs swarmed her and ash rained down upon her. I kept knocking the ash off of her, fearing that it would singe her fur. Dave joked that – if she did light on fire – she would probably just roll over onto her other side, put the fire out, and then go back to sleep.

Dave and I had only been settled in our lawn chairs for a very short period of time before the bugs began to harass us. I went in the house and retrieved the Deep Woods Off while Dave located his bottle of bug barrier and sprayed it in a circle around the fire pit. I sprayed myself with Off. Dave sprayed himself and the dogs. We seated ourselves in the lawn chairs and we were about to lean back when three or four dozen mosquitoes descended upon us with an almost audible giggle at our impotent attempts at repellent.

“Wow.” Dave grumbled. “That was a waste of 9 dollars.”

We sat out beside the fire until it had burned down to embers, then went inside the house and played a card game called “DaVinci’s Challenge” and three rounds of rummy. Dave set the alarm before he climbed into bed. He wanted to be up by 9 AM so that he would have the whole day to work on the two homework assignments that are due while we’re on vacation. In order to complete and post his homework, we had to find a place with a WiFi internet connection that he could use. Aunt Mary suggested the public library in Newberry, and Dave concocted a cunning plan.

I was to drop him off in the morning and he would stay until he completed both assignments. When he was finished, he planned to phone the house… so that I could come and retrieve him. The alarm went off at 9 AM and Dave promptly shut it off. I figured he’d changed his mind about the early start and went back to sleep.

Grim woke the entire house at 11 AM. He has been positively obnoxious today, whining and crying because he wants to go for runs in the woods. We left the house around 11:30 and I put the dogs in the car (an unsuccessful attempt to appease Grim). He cried all the way into town, we left Dave at the library, and then Grim cried all the way home. As soon as we made it back to the cabin, I started up the red 4-wheeler and took the dogs for a morning run.
Yesterday, I found the old blue Schwinn in the pole barn. I’m guessing it belongs to Aunt Mary, and that she’s the one who left it here, but I’ve always loved that bike. I remember riding it around when we lived in Beaverton and it’s exactly the sort of bike I was looking for when I went out and bought my six-speed last year (and I’ve only ever been disappointed with the purchase).

When the dogs had completed their morning run, I took the old Schwinn for a ride. I rode up and down the road contentedly, until my legs no longer wanted to hold me, and then returned to the cabin for a shower and a nap.

I was still napping when Dave called at 4 PM to say that he was ready to come home. I put the dogs back in the van and went into town to pick him up. He mentioned that he was famished, so we dropped the dogs off at home and ventured out in search of dinner. I took him to Zellar’s (since I was determined to have a pasty and Zellar’s comes highly recommended).

Zellar’s was just the sort of small town restaurant that one expects to find in an area like this… A restaurant where the owner is also the cook and her daughter is the only waitress. A place where the cook makes the pasties herself, in accordance with a secret recipe that she won’t even reveal to her daughter. A place where the only thing separating the smoking and non-smoking sections is a sign that says “Non-Smoking”… not that it matters because no one sits in the smoking section anyway. A place where Dave and I were the only customers under the age of sixty and where you have to speak in whispers because all the other customers are too busy eating to talk and it’s ridiculously quiet.

Dave was so hungry that he ate his pasty and a third of mine. He topped it off with a piece of homemade pie for dinner and then we stopped at the hardware store on the way back to the cabin so he could get the shim he needed to fix the door of the big bathroom. I don’t remember that door every closing properly, and Dave fixed it so that it would close, though the frame itself is bowed in the middle and the door still does rub a little.

We had another gigantic campfire after that, though we got rained out before the fire had burnt all the way down to embers.

Friday, September 18, 2009:

It’s a little after 11 PM on the third day of our vacation. We just finished dinner and we’re gearing up for our nightly rummy challenge. It was a reasonably eventful day.

Dave started the morning by pulling wood from the woodpile and chopping it into smaller pieces (so that we could build a fire in the wood-burning stove in the living room). I took all three dogs for a morning run and then we watched the first part of the U.P. Home Video Tape… a tradition of mine which Dave found surprisingly amusing.

We ventured into Newberry to the pizza place for lunch, fueled up and then returned to the cabin to collect the dogs. I’d made up my mind that I wanted to take them to Round Lake today. While Mulder is largely apathetic to the water, Scully loves to swim. Grimshaw has never seen a body of water larger than the water in a bathtub, so I really wanted to introduce him to swimming for the first time on this vacation.

We set out with a vague set of directions and a GPS that wasn’t much good to us because we only knew the name of the lake, not the park where it was located. After going twenty minutes out of our way, Dave got decent enough cell phone reception to phone my mother for additional direction. We found the park, drove through it twice before we’d successfully located the boat launch… but even after all that, I was giddy. There wasn’t another person within sight and – given the fact that the tourist season is officially over, I didn’t expect anyone to interrupt us.

No sooner did we let the dogs out of the car, however, than a truck appeared out of nowhere. It was as if the driver had been lurking somewhere in the forest, just waiting for some unsuspecting "troll" to come along so that he could interrupt them. To say that I was annoyed would be an understatement, but we herded the dogs back into the van and waited while the driver, and his equally unintelligent and unmotivated compatriot, docked a fishing boat and secured it to the boat trailer.

Once they were finally gone, we released the hounds and – this time around – they were able to swim without interruption. Scully swam like a seal and was desperate for one of the other dogs to get in the water so that she could play with them. Mulder, however, refused to even dip a paw in the water, and Grimmy was understandably hesitant, so I took off my shoes, rolled up my pant legs and waded into the water with Scully. At length, Grim was willing to venture into the water, but only as far out as I would go with him. Still, it was a start, and I returned to the cabin feeling content.

Dave napped on the sofa while I took the old blue Schwinn out for a ride. After that, we watched the second half of the U.P. Home Video, started a fire in the stove and had a quiet dinner. Dave just slaughtered me – yes, again tonight – at rummy. He wants to play Uno next and if I don’t make a better showing at that, I’m liable to have a complex by the time we return home.

Sunday, September 20, 2009:

It’s that time of night again, where Dave and I sit down to have our rummy competition. He won the first three nights – and decisively – but I managed to eke out a win last night.
I didn’t sit down to update the log yesterday. It was something of a lost day. Dave decided that he wanted to devote the entire day to his new painting. He spent the morning deciding on a background for his painting (he selected a section of woods). He decided which time of day would allow for the most ideal shadows and we waited until that time for him to take a photograph for reference. He sat down to print off the photo and discovered that he was out of printer ink…

So, we made the drive into Newberry and located a store where we could purchase a new ink cartridge. Returning home, Dave printed off his reference photo and settled in to paint. He set up his palette, his easel and was just getting ready to start when he realized that – while he had remembered his air compressor – he’d neglected to bring the hose for the air brush.

After cursing himself, he decided he could still get started on the project… He would just have to paint the background with a brush. Searching through the contents of his supply box, he began to curse again when he realized that he didn’t have a blocking brush. He did start to put paint to canvas with one of his smaller brushes, but quickly discovered that it just wasn’t going to work.

We’ll just have to cut our visit short so that he can go home and devote a day to his painting before he has to go back to work. We were planning on staying until Tuesday, so it looks like we’ll be departing for home tomorrow.

That being the case, we decided to go site-seeing today. I took him over to Tahquamenon Falls. We had lunch at the Brewery and Pub that is located near the Upper Falls. I decided to be brave and ordered a buffalo burger, then we did a little souvenir shopping in the gift shop while we digested. We only toured the Upper Falls today. Notwithstanding the exhausting number of stairs that we had to descend (and subsequently climb), I think Dave enjoyed the scenic beauty of the falls, the trees and rock walls that we saw along the way.

Monday, September 25, 2009:

It’s now 10 PM and, though we got a much later start that we anticipated, Dave and I are home, unpacked and settled in. When I finish this entry, I’m going to turn my attention to downloading the photos and video from our trip. It should be something of an adventure for me, since the video camera is new and records footage to a memory card (much like my other camera) and while I know how to transfer the photos from the memory chip to the hard drive, I have no idea how to transfer the footage from the new video camera. If I can figure that part out, then it will take me several more hours to figure out how to burn the footage to a disc… but that might be a challenge for another day.

The drive home was uneventful, though I have one extraordinarily depressed dog tonight. While Scully and Mulder are napping after the long drive, Grimshaw is moping in a corner of the living room.

Murph will be stopping over soon for a round of rummy, so Dave is putting the finishing touches on his homework. We still have three days of vacation left and we haven’t yet discussed what’s on the agenda for tomorrow.

I know. We all have them... days when everything we touch turn to poo. It's 1 AM and I'm sitting here at the keyboard, nursing a migraine and a glass of ginger ale, but I think it might be safe for me to commit the events of yesterday to paper. Dave is asleep in the other room and although I slept for a couple of hours, I find myself awake again. I'm of the mind that the two hour nap was sufficient to fool the Kah-Kah gods into thinking that the day was officially over, but keep your fingers crossed for me.

Dave had to be at work at 5 AM yesterday, and with the plethora of alarm clocks sounding in the bedroom, I was wide awake before he was. I proofread another couple of chapters of my manuscript... again, just trying to force my way through the slump... and then laid back down for a nap in the late morning hours. Grim woke me around 2 PM and I crawled out of bed, stupidly optimistic. Yesterday was the first day of ballroom dance class, you see...

It only took me a full year to coordinate schedules, locate a class and successfully enroll in it.

I was halfway through my breakfast when I noticed an odor that smelled suspiciously like Kah-Kah. I glanced down at the dogs, who were crowded around me, and discovered that one of them had tracked poo the length of the house. As my mother pointed out, this was an indication that I haven't been keeping the backyard as clean as I ought, but I also have dogs who like to kick their feet when they've finished doing their business and have (on other unfortunate occasions) misjudged the location of their own land mine and kicked their feet in the fresh pile of yuck... subsequently tracking said yuckage INTO MY HOUSE.

Now, I have a live and let live philosophy when it comes to insects, rodentia and other small animals. I will happily let you live, so long as you do it outside of my house. It's really the same thing with poo. So long as the Kah-Kah stays outside, I remain a rational, sane human being... but the minute the Poo crosses the threshold, I go temporarily insane.

Three minutes into the crisis, Dave appeared at the back door. He opened the screen door, spotted me through the window and instinctively froze... as smart animals will do when they sense danger lurking ahead of them. Stepping into the house carefully, he requested an explanation and then went about making himself small and keeping out of the way as I tore through the house like a white tornado.

I swept and scrubbed linoleum, vacuumed and scrubbed carpets, cleaned every last land mine from the backyard and washed all of the tainted rugs. The temporary insanity passed about an hour before it was time to leave for dance class. We left with plenty of time to make it to the community center and locate the designated room. The only thing I didn't anticipate was the fact that I didn't have proper shoes for the occasion, but I made up my mind to make due for now and pick up a more appropriate pair before the second week of class.

We waited outside the classroom for fifteen minutes, and then wandered into the room to find that one other couple had enrolled. Their names were Marsha and Scott, and this was (at least) their second time taking the class. I knew it didn't bode well when Marsha introduced herself and then promptly explained that the instructor was always late. We waited another fifteen minutes before a staff member came into the room to advise us that our instructor was running late and had moved the class time from 6:30 to 7:15.

With time to kill, Dave and I ventured out to a nearby store to purchase appropriate shoes. We made it back to the classroom by 7:10, and the instructor was nowhere to be found. At 7:20, I was more than annoyed and, glancing at Dave, I could see that he was too.

"Pick a deadline." I told him. "And if he isn't here by that time, then we'll leave."

"But you really want to take this class." Dave pointed out. "We've been waiting for a year to find a class and sign up for it..."

"I know." I told him. "But I have principles. I might want to learn to dance, but I'm not willing to be treated like crap in order to do it. Being this late... it's disrespectful. The instructor wouldn't accommodate us if we were this late, because his time is valuable. Well, our time is just as valuable as his, and based on what Marsha said, this is a chronic problem."

Dave set the deadline at 7:30... an hour after the class was supposed to have started and fifteen minutes after the rescheduled class time that we were given by the instructor. At 7:31, we collected our things and extended our apologies to Marsha and Scott.

"We just can't wait any longer." I advised them. "We have a scheduling conflict."

And we did. Dave had a ton of homework and I'd promised him I would have him home before 8 PM to work on it.

"But..." Marsha inquired. "Will you be back next week?"

"We'll have to think about that." Dave replied, and we headed toward the stairs. By the time we'd reached the reception desk, we'd made up our mind to withdraw from the class. The young man at the reception desk was the same staff member who'd delivered the message from the instructor.

"The instructor hasn't arrived yet?" He ventured and was as understanding as possible when we requested the paperwork to withdraw from the class. I heard the front door open behind me and glanced over my shoulder while I waited for the young man to locate a pen for me. Walking through the door was a slender, athletic man with meticulously-styled gray hair, stone-washed jeans and a tight black t-shirt. I'm not sure why, but I was absolutely positive that I was looking at the MIA instructor. I think what irritated me the most was that he didn't look at all hurried or sheepish... he was almost 90 minutes late and the only thing I saw on his face was apathy, with - perhaps - a touch of pretentiousness around the eyes.

"Actually..." The young man gestured as handed me the pen. "There's the instructor of the class."

"That's nice." Was Dave's stark reply. "He owes me an hour of my time."

So, we withdrew from the class, though it stated on the withdrawl paperwork that we would only get a refund if the coordinator of the dance and gymnastics division authorized it. I'm supposed to call her tomorrow to discuss our options with her. The young man at the reception desk said it was possible that they would only be able to give us credit toward some other service offered at the community center.

* Sigh *

So, the dance class turned out to be kah-kah and Dave and I decided to try to salvage date night with a nice dinner. I tried to adhere to the precepts of my diet, but didn't do a stellar job. We made it home at 9 PM and Dave sat at the computer for a little over an hour, but was too tired and out of sorts to work on his homework anyway.

He decided to turn in early and work on his homework in the morning. I let the dogs out, changed into my pajamas and when Scully didn't bark at the back door to indicate that they were finished, I finally went out to check on them.

The gate was wide open and there wasn't a dog to be seen in the backyard. I must not have latched it properly when I went through it to dispose of the land mines that I'd cleaned from the yard in the afternoon. I called to Dave as I scrambled to get my bathrobe and a pair of shoes. When I stepped out onto the deck and my eyes had time to adjust, I spotted Mulder and Grimshaw in our side yard, just on the other side of the chain link fence.

Scully, however, was no where to be found, so Dave and I dressed and set out to find her. He spotted her a couple of houses down and herded her back home. That's when I decided that it was time for all of us to put an official end to the day. I wasn't willing to endure any more drama and I was afraid to do anything else, lest it self-distruct in my face.

... the existential crisis rears it's ugly head.

To say that things have been hectic this summer would be a bit of an understatement. For a while now, I've been lamenting to Dave that I really just need a weekend to sit at home... with no hectic or pressing agenda... and unwind. It's becoming increasingly apparent to me that I needed a vacation... like, two months ago. I'm worn out, a touch depressed and I have no patience or sympathy at work.

Looks like I got what I asked for. A typical weekend (even one without an agenda) involves at least one visit to Havens Headquarters, but Mom and Dad went on an impromptu camping trip, so even that is off the weekend schedule. I went over to check on Gram last night, chatted with Aunt Mary (who had taken Gram to the Med Center, because Gram is coming down with the same thing that nearly killed her last summer and we're trying to get it under control before she has to be hospitalized again).

After Mary went home, Gram and I sat and watched the Tigers together. We talked about Ernie Harwell, and what a remarkable man he is. We marvelled that either bullpen had any pitchers left to send in by the end of the 7th inning. It seemed they were switching out pitchers every time a new hitter stepped into the batter's box. It was a damn good game, if I do say so myself. We didn't tune in until the 3rd inning, and by that point, they were pulling Galarraga out, so it wasn't looking good at first, but the Tigers made their comeback.

I came home after the game to find Dave submitting his first homework assignment online. He had a second presentation to write, but the motivation just wasn't there and the assignment wasn't due yet, so he decided to put it off until tonight. It was probably for the best, since you never do your best work when your heart isn't - at least partially - in the task at hand.

Which brings us to the point in the night when Angela found herself at an impasse. The advantage to having a hectic and pressing schedule would seem to be that I don't have any time to devote to personal pursuits. Now that I have time, I find myself at a loss as to how to spend it. I used to invest every spare moment of free time in my novels, but I'm finding that I no longer have any desire to work on the second book. I haven't written a word on the second book since I received the first manuscript back from the editor.

Dave and I discussed the issue again last night, which I hate to do because it seems to depress him a good deal more than it does me. Since the first manuscript came back from the editor, Dave has been of the mind that I just need to take the original document, hand it to the publishing consultant, and tell her that I want it published "as is". Last night, I was finally able to make him comprehend why I'm not going to do that, and why such an action wouldn't solve the problem anyway.

I liked the manuscript, yes. I was happy with it when I sent it to her, yes. Problem is, when she sent it back and pointed out that it was substandard in so many substantial ways, she planted that little seed of doubt... and when you're neurotic like I am, and as critical of your own work as I am... it doesn't take long for the seed to sprout. Dave has been of the mind that I'm unhappy with the revised manuscript, and logic would dictate that - if I just published the original manuscript - then the unhappiness will go away. Problem is, I don't even like the original manuscript anymore. I'm no longer confident that it has any merit at all, and if the first manuscript is garbage, then there doesn't seem to be any point in wasting time on the second one.

Any time I allow myself to think about the book, I'm tormented by all the flaws that I see in it... flaws that I didn't see until she pointed them out to me. As with everything in life, once you see something, you can't make yourself blind to it again. I'm doggedly trudging through the publication process (though I go for weeks at a time without taking any steps to move things along) because I've been conditioned by my parents to follow through. Even then, I find myself tormented by the prospect that I'm investing this much in a book that I won't be happy with when it's completed.

Which brings us to the existential crisis. Writing has been a huge part of my self-concept from the time I was in third grade. If my writing is this substandard (and I opted to try to publish this manuscript because I was - and still am - positive that it represented my best work), then I can't motivate myself to waste anymore of my time writing. When you remove "Angela, The Writer" from my identity, there's a huge hole in my self-concept and in my daily life. I haven't figured out what to fill that hole with, so I'm discovering that (for the time being, at least) large amounts of downtime exascerbate my depression.

Because, let's be honest. I am depressed, and that edited manuscript is the sole cause. It set off a chain reaction that has me questioning my ability to do something that I've invested 20 years of my life in (at least). Some days, I think I can pull myself out of this slump if I force myself to press onward with the publishing process, and other days, I'm of the mind that the depression and related existential crisis will pass with time.

In the interim, I guess I just have to reconcile myself to the fact that I'm going to lose sleep over it... not unlike I'm doing now.

Yesterday was a full day, as intimated by my last journal entry. Despite leaving the house with ample amount of time to make the drive to William Hooper's funeral, I still arrived a couple of minutes late. It took me thirty minutes to make the drive from Sparkle City to the PD, and then an additional thirty minutes to make the drive across town to the funeral home. There were moments when I debated calling 911 to report a case of road rage, but when they asked me who the suspect was, I would have to report myself.

The service had just started when I walked into the funeral home, so I slipped through the open door and found the nearest empty chair. I scanned the room and eventually spotted the rest of my coworkers, who were seated on the opposite side of the room. The service was beautiful, and at the same time, excruciating to witness. It was arguably the nicest funeral service I've attended. The minister did an exceptional job and though I wept through a good portion of the ceremony, it was all I could do to avoid sobbing out loud when the honor guard from the VFW presented the flag to Hooper.

After the service, I headed back home to give Grimmy his medication and to purchase some groceries for dinner. I invited Izzy over for a BBQ and an evening of board game fun-ness. Murph came over as well and we played several rousing rounds of "Cranium". After Iz and Murph departed, I decided to light a fire in the firepit. Ordinarily, I ask Dave to light one for me, but I made up my mind that it was time for me to learn. Dave emerged from the house and sat with me by the fire for a couple of hours after the fire was roaring. We chatted, studied the clear, starry sky and watched the fire burn down into beautiful, glowing embers.

It was well after 2 AM by the time we went back into the house. Dave was chilled, so he climbed straight into bed, but I lit some candles in the bathroom and soaked for a few minutes in a hot bath (mixed with scented bath salts). I asked Dave if he wanted me to make some hot tea for him (to help him warm up), so I heated the water, dug his favorite type of tea from the kitchen cupboard, pulled out the china teapot, tea cups, saucers, and the wooden tray. I brought the tea to him in the bedroom and he drank it in bed. When he was finished - and presumably warmer - he laid back against the pillows and was fast asleep a few moments later.

Not a bad way to end a hectic weekend. While Dave slept, I finished my day with soft classical music and a cup of peach tea. It was peaceful, and as I told Kris last week when he complained of boredom, it may be boring at my house... but I worked very hard to create a home environment for myself that is peaceful and free of unnecessary drama.

I arrived home last night to find Grimshaw waiting at the back door for me. He started crying as soon as I got in the door, as if to say "Oh my GOD, I'm so glad you're home! I'm really hurting here!"

Dave, who was on the computer when I walked in, seemed befuddled when I called to him to ask what had happened to Grim. He and Murph, who had arrived minutes before me, came out to see what was wrong. They both insisted that it must have been something that happened right before I came in the door, and I was somewhat displeased when they told me that this was behavior that Grim had exhibited on two prior ocassions while I was at work. Twice before, he'd stepped on his back leg and cried, then hobbled until he "walked it off". Grim was in such severe discomfort that I told Dave we might need to take him to the animal hospital if the pain didn't ease up. Dave wasn't keen on the idea, given the expense and the fact that he's been there twice before and walked away with huge bills and no answers.

The pain did seem to ease up, so I told Dave that we needed to get Grim into the vet today. He didn't seem to feel that it was as pressing as I did, and seemed inclined to believe that Grimmy would "walk it off" like he did on the previous occasions. We went out to grab dinner so that Dave could get to bed (he had to open the restaurant this morning). When we returned, Grim was still in evident discomfort... had taken to finding confined spaces where he could curl up. I spent a good portion of the next couple of hours on the living room floor with Grim, who crawled onto my lap and did the very best he could to curl up there. It's characteristic for Grim to want to be petted, but he generally doesn't like it if you put your arm around him or otherwise confine him.

Last night, however, Grimmy wanted to be held. He spent a good portion of the evening staring at me and whining, as if to say "Could you just fix this?". I knew too well that it was an ACL injury of some kind, so when it was finally time to go to bed, I pulled the cushions off the sofa, lined them up on the bedroom floor in front of the entertainment center, and slept there. When Toby tore the ACL in his back leg, he was using the other leg to compensate and wound up tearing the ACL in his other leg as a result. I was trying to avoid that possibility (since it's expensive to repair one ACL, let alone two). I didn't want Grim to try to jump up on the bed, but since he generally sleeps where I do, I reasoned that he would sleep on the floor if I did. When I finally drifted off to sleep at 4 AM, all three dogs were sleeping on the floor beside me.

Dave's alarm went off half an hour later and he woke me to ask me why I was sleeping on the floor.

"Did you have to help Grim get on the bed, or did he get up there on his own?" Dave ventured before I could form a coherent answer.

"He's on the bed?" I sputtered drowsily, and Dave shook his head up and down...

So much for my cunning plan. The only two dogs that stayed on the floor with me after I fell asleep were the two without leg injuries. * Sigh *

Dave left for work at 5 AM, I got up on the bed with Grim (and the other dogs followed suit). I slept sporadically from 6 to 8 AM, when Dave called to tell me that he'd set up a vet appointment for Grim at 8:40.

So, I got up, dressed and tried to scrape some money together to pay for the vet visit (since tomorrow is payday and my fundage is pretty depleted after 13 days). I coaxed Grimmy off the bed, into the car and got him to the vets office just in time. He was mildly curious about everything, even after they escorted us into the examination room. He didn't really get nervous until the doctor came into the room, and then - in true Grimmy fashion - he made his wishes abundantly clear. He immediately pawed and nosed my purse from the corner (where I'd placed it) to the door of the exam room, as if to say "All right... we've got to be going now. Right this way, Mom."

The vet examined Grim and ascertained that, while both back legs showed indications of injury to the ACL's, neither ACL was actually torn through. She speculated that the ACL had a small tear or had been stretched and gave me a week's worth of pain medication/anti-inflammatory. She also prescribed rest and inactivity for Grim (in so much as that's possible).

SO... It's now 10:30 and I'm trying to tidy the house a bit before I leave for the funeral. I'll pick up the food for dinner tonight on the way home. It's just going to have to be one of those long days that one has when they have a full schedule and got very little sleep the night before.

I just got back from taking all three dogs for a walk. It was marginally successful... unless you count the part of the trek where one of the dogs fell in the ditch. Mulder just formed his initial acquaintance with the concept of an optical illusion. For example, the grass may be tall, but that doesn't mean that it is ground level. He had it in his head that he wanted to mark a particular spot in this tall patch of grass and - try as I might to stop him - I couldn't get him to understand that the particularly tall patch of grass was growing in the middle of a ditch.

He wasn't injured... well... nothing but his pride, anyway.

I put Scully in the car and ventured over to check on Gram. She must be feeling well enough, because she was out and about. Had the outside lights on, which means she doesn't intend to be home before dark.

Murph is on his way over... Dave is in the middle of a World of Warcraft crisis and I have a feeling the two of them are going to spend the rest of the evening planning their counterattack. Dave logged in this morning to discover that his account had been hacked and his online WoW character stolen by someone with a Chinese email address.

* Sigh *

For my part, I've been busy with my own planning. The one year mark (i.e. the date that marks the one year countdown to the wedding) is fast approaching. Dave and I went out and bought the wedding rings last week. In the process, I saw how much he paid for my engagement ring and I think I may have lost bladder control... I'm pretty sure if you go into the local jewelry store, you'll see the mark on the carpet where I peed myself. I gawked at him incredulously and the clerk behind the counter turned to Dave.

"I'm gathering she wasn't with you when you bought the engagement ring?" He inquired, and Dave shook his head from side to side.

"What possessed you?" I sputtered and Dave's response was:

"You're worth it."

"No." I yelped. "I'm not!"

But anyway... I picked out a band that goes with the engagement ring and Dave picked out a wedding band. I'll be working some overtime to pay those off, I can tell you.

This week, I decided to purchase gifts for the bridesmaids. I selected a couple of options, conferred with Mom and made the final purchase. I told Dave that it's his responsibility to select gifts for the groomsmen... which reminded him that he hasn't actually asked all of the groomsmen if they're willing to stand in the wedding yet.

I told him he'd better get on that.

It's the middle of the night, and despite my lingering exhaustion, I find myself wide awake. Dave is catching a couple of hours of sleep before he gets up to open the restaurant, so I've relocated to the living room for a while...

Not that I'll keep him awake. He's a pretty solid sleeper.

Though it's a little known fact, this was supposed to be the first day of a lengthy vacation, but our vacation plans fell through again. Looks like he'll be working for the next two weeks straight, and given the current state of our finances, I plan to spend as much time at work as they'll allow. It's unfortunate, really. I'm completely drained and I've been hanging on to sanity by a thread... just telling myself that - if I could make it past Pow Wow weekend - I would have a nice, long vacation.

It's a difficult to make the psychological transition from vacation to working the better part of the next 20 days, but I'm trying to make the best of it.

Dave and I went grocery shopping tonight. Jenny's dropping Kris off in the morning and I don't know how long he'll be staying, but I wanted to make sure we had food here. We didn't pick up a lot (made it out of there with only $17 worth of purchases), but we did run into Mr Devlin and his new wife, Roxanna... they were married yesterday, and it was wonderful to see them. Dave took particular interest in Mr Devlin, since he's been hearing about Joe - from one student or another - for the past fifteen years.

Mr Devlin is retired now... has had knee surgery and another heart attack since the last time I saw him (which was two years ago)... but he's as fiesty as ever, which I find reassuring. He told me about his last day at work... how his coworkers covered his truck (completely) with post it notes and then lined up in the hallway with yard sticks and crossed them (like an honor guard would with swords) so that he had to walk under them as he left the building.

After chatting with the Devlins, Dave and I had a late dinner at Applebees and then came home and watched a History Channel documentary on Jack the Ripper... macabre of us, I know... but it's been a topic of interest since we played that "Sherlock Holmes versus Jack the Ripper" computer game, and Dave and I were both fascinated by how accurate the game was! They showed crime scene photos in the documentary that were so familiar to us that it was creepy. The scenery in the game is exact, and after the playing the game, it was unsettling to see pictures of the crime scenes because it felt like you'd actually been there.

I've also been reading up on the infamous "Jack the Ripper" diary that surfaced in the early 1990's... which was a brilliant (BRILLIANT) fake. Okay... so maybe I should rephrase that, since there are some people out there who cling to the notion that it is authentic, despite the fact that Michael Barrett swore two affadavits that he forged the diary with a little help from his wife, who took dictation and wrote it in a Victorian photo album.

I would take my hat off to Barrett. The diary is absolutely brilliant... and if he had just published it as a theoretical work (his own theory on the identity of Jack the Ripper)... I could give him my unconditional admiration. It's the fact that he tried to pass it off as an actual diary that I disapprove of.

But anyway.

I'm hoping to make a trip to the Farm tomorrow to see my Grandma Havens and her twin sister, Aunt May, who celebrated their 80th birthday yesterday (and I was unable to make it to the party because I had to work). I'm hoping to see May's son, Gary, and meet his new wife, Peggy. I'm also told that my Aunt Diane and Uncle Ray came back for the party, and I'm hoping to catch them too, since I'm back to work on Tuesday.

I ventured over to HHQ today, to assist my father in the replacing the trim around the garage door. I called when I was setting out and learned that Grandma Hume was also en route, as was Amanda and the kiddos. Though we only got halfway through the garage door project, I did get to spend some excellent time with family today, including Braden (who is walking now).

For those of you who don't know, I ordered my wedding dress last week. I couldn't find anything that I liked at the bridal shop, and even the dresses that I could stand were well (WELL) outside of my price range. I found a place in Ohio that would make the dress I wanted and mail it to me, and even with the shipping, it was within my price range, so I placed the order.

It arrived three days later.

My schedule being what it is, I finally got over to try the dress on today. Mom, Gram, Mandy and I descended into the blue bedroom, where the dress has been hanging since Thursday. Amanda helped me get into the dress (which required lacing up the corset-like back), and while she was weaving the laces through the satin loops, one of my nephews rounded the corner, took one look at me and darted back out of sight with a stunned look of horror on his face. I continued to watch the open doorway and a minute later, one of his blue eyes peered cautiously around the doorframe and into the room.

See, even as children, men have an inate fear of a woman in a wedding dress.

Later in the evening, Mandy sent the kids inside to use the bathroom and say their goodbyes while she finished packing the van. I gave Noelle a hug and as she was putting on her shoes, she abruptly announced:

"I saw the wedding dress that's hanging in the guest room, Aunt Angie, and I think Dave will love you in that."

"I hope so." I told her.

If not, then we may have a problem.

I just finished watching a movie called "Speak", which is based on a young adult novel that we studied in my YA literature course. It stars a very young Kristen Stewart (whom - I'm told - is in the movie "Twilight", but I haven't seen that film yet). You know I love a good film adaptation and they did a beautiful job with this one. I can highly recommend it, which is more than can be said for the ABOMINABLE horror film "Asylum" that came in the mail on the same day.

Steer clear of that. I actually think it killed brain cells.

As you all know, I don't have the time to watch as many movies as I used to. Over the course of the past month, however, I managed to squeeze in a few films, so it's time for another of those 'Movie Review' journal entries.

We'll start with the WORST of the lot, a little film called "My Bloody Valentine". While in theaters, it was hailed as a 3-D horror film, which must have been the only noteworthy thing about the film. It was unnecessarily gory, and implausible to the point of being ridiculous. The best horror movies are the ones that COULD possibly happen, and this particular storyline was laughable.

The second movie that I watched was "Gran Torino". With all that I'd heard about the film - how brilliant it was - I won't deny that I was a little disappointed. Short of a Quentin Tarantino movie, you'd be hard pressed to find anything with more offensive dialogue. It was certainly raw, but worth watching... though I cannot say that I would watch it again.

The third film that I watched this month was "Australia", which I can recommend. It moves a little slowly in the beginning, but it speeds up dramatically in the middle. There is a scene toward the end of the movie where Nicole Kidman turns around and sees Hugh Jackman walking through the smoke, and I think I fell in love with him at that point. It's definitely worth watching... all three hours of it.

The final film on my list is "Taken", which - I'm surprised to say - I liked the best of the four movies that I watched. I've saw it not once, but three times in as many days, and I would still watch it again. Liam Neeson was brilliant.

It looks as though Dave and I have finalized the bridal party. Up until now, everything has been in limbo because I selected three bridesmaids and Dave had four friends that he wanted to ask to be groomsmen. He couldn't decide who to exclude (for obvious reasons) and I was having a difficult time coming up with another bridesmaid.

It wasn't for want of people to ask. My first thought was to ask my cousins Elizabeth and Emily, but the problem is that I couldn't ask one and not the other (because they're both just so dear to me), which meant that Dave would need to find another groomsmen...

Not a problem. He said he would ask Kris if there were going to be five bridesmaids, and that would give him five groomsmen...

But then I got to thinking: If I ask Elizabeth and Emily, then Noelle will be hurt. She'll feel as though she's being excluded, because she's the same age as Elizabeth and Emily, and I could try to explain to her that Elizabeth and Emily are my cousins (and she's my neice), but she won't be able to make that distinction. She'll just feel hurt...

And then there's the fact that my brother isn't in the bridal party, and I really, really want him to be. I kept waiting for the right opportunity to broach the subject with Dave, but Dave already has too many groomsmen, so asking Ryan to be a groomsmen didn't seem like something he was going to be able to do.

SO... It seemed I could solve the problem by having SIX bridesmaids and SIX groomsmen, but... MY GOODNESS... that seemed excessive. I mentioned it to Mom and Dad, to see what their thoughts were, and my mother was silent. My father jokingly submitted that I could just have a 22 person bridal party and then we wouldn't need to have a wedding, just a rehearsal, because everyone who would come to the ceremony would already be in it.

I told him to stop being a smart ass, and he giggled.

I called Amanda to see what her thoughts were. She agreed with me that such a large bridal party would be insane, and suggested that I should ask Elizabeth and Emily. She said that Noelle is learning to behave in situations such as these, and that Noelle would just have to learn to accept my decision (since it's my wedding day). She also suggested that Noelle would have an easier time dealing with it if we found something else for her to do... and I was more than happy to comply... but then it seemed to me as though she would still be hurt. Another assignment might help Noelle cope better and feel less excluded at the ceremony, but she's a smart girl and she'll still feel as though she was excluded from the bridal party... and yes, this is my "day", but part of having what I want means not hurting people that I love...

SO... the only way to avoid hurting Noey seems to be avoiding the situation entirely, and Elizabeth and Emily are both lovely, compassionate girls and I know they'll both understand when I explain the situation to them. They know that I love them and wanted to ask them. I made that clear to them when I saw them yesterday, and they also know that Noelle struggles with these things... so I know that they'll be glad to do whatever they can in order to keep Noelle from feeling injured.

But, that brought me right back to square one. Dave and I were discussing it yesterday evening and I was lamenting the fact that we haven't resolved the bridesmaid to groomsmen ratio, and particularly the fact that I couldn't find a way to make my brother part of the wedding party.

"I just need him to be a bridesmaid!" I joked, and as a joke, I sent Ryan a text message that said the same thing:

I need you to be a bridesmaid.

He responded almost immediately... said he would love to and he was honored... and I stared at the readout on my phone for several seconds, thinking to myself: He must not have read the original message closely.

I sent him another text, assuring him he would be in the same tux as the groomsmen, he would just be standing on my side, and he responded by saying how excited he was...

SO, I now have three bridesmaids and a bridesman. I read through the Bride's Book of Etiquette last night, and it turns out that it isn't even remotely uncommon. My only concern was what to do during the recessional, but the Bride's Book gave a couple of different options.

And everyone is happy again. YAY!

It's miserably hot again today... too miserably hot to worry about trying to make myself presentable for work. I could go through the process, but I'm just going to look wilted (for want of a better word) when I get to work.

The last few days have been interesting, and I've reached the end of my official work week, (tonight is my last scheduled shift for the week), but I picked up overtime on Saturday night, which I'm dreading a little. I'm so worn out today, but I couldn't turn down the additional income with the book expenses and the wedding expenses looming.

I see the last entry was posted on Tuesday morning. After it was posted, I mustered my energy and cleaned the house from top to bottom... Mind you, I crippled myself in the process. When the doctor said "Take it easy.", I didn't figure I would have to steer clear of housework, but by the time I'd finished cleaning the house, I could barely walk on my hip.

I met Katie at the beauty salon (and I use the term loosely), but humor me as I set the stage for our scene. In setting up the appointment, I looked through the phonebook for the name of a hair salon that was in the general vicinity of the restaurant where Katie works... seemed to me that it would be easier for her if I selected the area of town she was most familiar with. I called, set up an appointment and asked for directions (just to be on the safe side). Imagine my surprise when I learned that the salon was on the other side of town, but hey... I was determined to make the best of it.

I met up with Katie outside the salon. She had been inside already, and warned me that we might have an issue. When the hairdresser asked her "What are we going to be doing with your hair, dear?", Katie said "A French twist"...

And the woman's response:

"Oh honey. We don't do braids here!"

Now, you and I both know that there isn't a braid anywhere NEAR a French twist, but once again, I was determined to make the best of it. We went inside the building and found two ladies... a middle-aged woman that looked like she hadn't done anything to her own hair in years and an elderly lady with the biggest 1950's helmet hairdo that I've ever seen in real life. I explained to the middle-aged hairdresser what I was looking for (i.e. it needs to be off the collar, simple, clean and functional), and the woman responded by asking me "Do you know what a banana clip is?"

"Um... yes." I responded sheepishly. "They were popular during my childhood. I remember them."

"Well, that's what we're going to do."

"You're going to put her hair in a banana clip?" I sputtered incredulously.

"Well, no. We don't have any banana clips. We'll use pins."

THANK GOD!

So, they pulled Katie's hair up and we returned to the house, where I took a ton of pictures in the vain hope that Dave would be able to use one. He arrived home for work in the afternoon and promptly went to work on the book cover. I had a completed cover for my book by Tuesday night, and it turned out BRILLIANTLY.

After that, Dave (who has been taking care of all the business-related aspects of my publishing company), advised me that I needed to get a small business license. I settled on a name for my publishing company... Flawed Flower Publications... and described a company logo to Dave (which he is currently working on. We have a concept design, and when he has time, he'll work out a finalized logo). I wanted something feminine, and I wanted it to express both beauty and imperfection... since most of the characters that I write about are beautiful in spite of their flaws, or even because of them.

Dave and I went down to the country building yesterday and I took out a business license... so I officially own my own independent publishing company now. I asked Dave to design the website for me. I could do it on my own, but it will be so much more impressive if Dave does the design, so he was researching website options last night. With any luck, I'll have a functional website for my publishing company soon.