Yep, I am Writing about Weddings and Babies. What has this blog come to?

You know how a lot of brides complain that their husband-to-be won't help them with wedding planning? How you have to BEG him to do ANYthing wedding related?  Yeah....that's not my problem.  Paco has taken to wedding planning like a fish to water.  I never imagined he'd have so many opinions on things like China patterns and cake designs, but he sure does.

A couple weeks ago we decided to register for wedding gifts.  After we'd been out for dinner and each had 3 glasses of wine.  Drunk(ish) registering is FUN, you guys!  I'm not sure our sales associate agreed, but we really had a great time with it.  You get those little guns and you just scan, scan, scan away! All the stuff you want - scan, scan, scan!  The only problem with drunken registering is that the next day you look at your registry online and think "we wanted THAT?"  And you have to sort of re-register all over again.  We may have gotten a little trigger happy with the scanner gun is what I'm saying.  

As it turns out, wedding planning is probably good practice for marriage.  You have to compromise, combine finances and decide together how to allocate spending; you have to work together and try very, very hard not to murder each other.  If that's not marriage, I don't know what is!  Just kidding. We haven't really argued about much at all in this whole process. Except flowers. Paco really doesn't think you need flowers at a wedding. UM, HELLO? No FLOWERS at a WEDDING?  Clearly I am marrying a crazy person. Who doesn't want flowers at their wedding??

So pretty.

You know what's not fun about wedding planning?  Realizing that it would definitely be a good thing if you lost 15 lbs before strapping on your overpriced dress. Which means you shouldn't make so many cakes, and drink so much wine. IE: NO FUN before the wedding.  I am failing miserably at this part.  I kind of like my life, and that extra 15 lbs comes with the territory (ie, cake & wine habit).  And I don't want to be one of those brides who gets super skinny for her wedding and then just goes back to normal afterward.  What? So I can look at pictures of my wedding and think of how great I look and how I WILL NEVER LOOK THAT WAY AGAIN? That seems depressing.  So...maybe I'll shoot for 5 lbs. Compromise? We'll see.

Oh, so I have some other news: my sister Laura is pregnant, due in early June with a baby BOY. A boy! We don't know what to do with boys in this family!  We're all girls! How is there a BOY up in that joint (joint = womb)?  We are all excited, but it's definitely going to be weird to have a little man joining the clan. Paco and my dad are both thrilled, however.  Maybe because of this pregnancy, I've been watching this ridiculous show called "I Didn't Know I was Pregnant" on Discovery Health. In one particular episode a woman thought she had a stomach ache and just had to poop.  So she sat on toilet pushing and pushing what she thought was a poop, but guess what?? It was a 2.5 lb baby! Surprise! Your poop has arms, legs, and eyes AND CAME OUT OF YOUR VAGINA.   I don't know about you other ladies out there, but I've never once confused those two orifices.  So obviously this girl wasn't the brightest.  In this show, they often then switch frames to an OBGYN who will say something helpful or informative .  So they do that, and this is what the OBGYN very seriously says: "if you find a baby in the toilet, you should immediately remove it, and wrap it in towels."

So, all those times I found babies in toilets, I was NOT supposed to flush??  Crazy!  I of course told my sister that if she poops out her baby, she should wrap him in a towel, and NOT flush him. So I'm pretty glad I've been watching this show and soaking up all the knowledge - or else she might have flushed my nephew down the toilet when he's born! Spread the word, people.

I'm Something That Rhymes with ENRAGED!

So Paco and I just returned from a 7 day vacation in sunny California.  We spent the first two days in San Francisco, then went up to Farm Sanctuary for a night, and then to Napa for 2 nights, and Sonoma for 2 nights.  It was WONDERFUL!  

The first morning I awoke at 7am to a very hyper Paco. He was eager to start the day, and was packing up his camera to go site-seeing.  I decided to sleep for a while longer.  He came back 2 hours later still revved up, and dying to go hiking.  Paco is definitely an active person, but it was a little weird how pumped up he was to go on a hike. 

"Okay, okay, I'm getting up. Gimme a minute, SHEESH!" I whined, as I dragged my lazy ass out of bed and put on some sensible hiking shoes.

I like a good hike and all, but I REALLY like sleeping.  But, we were on vacation and you're supposed to get out and do things on vacation, I'm told, so off we went in our sweet Buick Lucerne rental car, headed toward Muir Woods.  I was still sleepy, and Paco was still giddy. I started to wonder when my boyfriend had become such a fan of trees.

We got to the Woods, paid the entrance fee, and off we went.  You can either stay on this boardwalk type thing that's been built in the woods, or you can take one of the trails and actually hike to the top of the mountain (I don't know if it's actually categorized as a mountain, but it took over an hour to get up there, so we'll say yes, it's a mountain).  We chose the hike, obviously.  The forest was absolutely beautiful, and I started to understand why Paco was so hyped up. I mean, these trees are ANCIENT. And HUGE. And just gorgeous.

The higher up we hiked, the fewer people we saw.  I guess that's what happens when you are an elite athlete willing to walk for over an hour! Yeah! That's us! We got to the top, and frankly the view wasn't as spectacular as one would have hoped. It was mostly just the tops of trees (surprise!).  We took a few pictures, and decided to head back down.  As we started our descent, I decided I HAD to pee. Like, HAD to. Paco said he remembered a spot a little ways down where there was a bench. He said he'd wait on the bench and be my look out.  We got to the bench and I put down my sweatshirt, and scouted out a nice place for pee-pee.  (I am sure peeing in Muir Woods is discouraged, so if this is someone from the California Parks Board reading this, this part is just a joke - haha!)  I did my business, and came walking back over to the bench.  I grabbed my sweatshirt, and out fell a card that just had my initials on the front.

Now, let me give you a teeny bit of background before I continue.  Two things: 1) Paco is known to do sweet things like give me thoughtful cards for no reason; and 2) for our anniversary this year, Paco donated money to the Minneapolis Parks board (or whatever they're called) to plant a tree in a park that I like. The tree is named for us, and at that time, he said that the tree represented our relationship....it will start out small, but grow and get stronger over the years, and that he was excited to watch the tree, and our relationship, continue to grow.  It was a very thoughtful gift.

Back to Muir Woods:  I pick up the card, and open it, and on the front is a picture of "our" tree. 

"Aww, honey, you got me a card, that is so sweet!" I gushed.  

I opened it up and read what is now the most loving, sweetest card I've ever gotten in my entire life.  I'm not going to share it with you because I'm a very private person (ha!), but let's just say that it combined the themes of being in a huge redwood forest, and our anniversary tree, and ended with something about wanting to spend the rest of his life with me.

"That is a very sweet card! Thank you so much."   I was still oblivious to what was about to happen.

Then he gets down on one knee....

Internal dialogue: What? What is happening?...Seriously, is this happening right now? I might pass out. This is happening.

".............stuff stuff stuff.........stuff stuff.....Will you marry me?"

See, I missed all that initial stuff because of my internal dialogue. Woops!  I'm glad I have the card!

I of course said yes, and we hugged and kissed and held back tears of joy.  It was awesome.  I can't believe I peed and drip dried about 2 minutes before my proposal, but hey, it is what it is!  

It's a good thing I said yes, because it would have been one long, awkward walk back down to the car. Not to mention a very strange 6 days in wine country!

The wedding planning has begun, and we couldn't be happier!  Life is good.

Punch It In!

In recent years my dad has gotten more tech-savvy. This stems from what can only be called his insane obsession with getting "deals" on Craigslist and Ebay. At the start of this obsession, he would make my mom help him do all his searches. He'd beckon her to the office and sit next to her at the computer, and bark orders like: "Okay, now punch in 'table saw' and let's see what we get".

Punch it in. That's what he called searching for something - punching it in. I don't know where he got the idea that you needed to punch a keyboard to get it to do things for you. I've had great luck with just gently touching the keys. I've never had to punch them at all. At any rate, after several months of getting my mom to punch in things like 'scaffolding' and 'electric saw' and 'other shit I don't need', she got tired of it and angrily shouted "I AM NOT PUNCHING THINGS IN FOR YOU ANYMORE, YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO LEARN TO DO IT YOURSELF" And so he did. He punches in stuff like crazy now.

My dad's deal-seeking is something of a problem in my view. You see, in my hometown of 130 people, there isn't a big Craigslist market, so usually he searches for deals in the Twin Cities metro area. Before he discovered this "hobby", when he would visit me I'd employ his carpentry skills and plan all kinds of home improvement projects for him to work on. Now when he comes down, I'm lucky if I can get the man to hang some curtains.

The other problem is that when a deal is just "too damn good" for him to pass up, but not worth the money for him to drive down (I've estimated that threshold to be anything under $500), he'll convince one of his daughters to drive to a stranger's house with a bunch of cash and do the deal for him. Considering that he only buys tools, these strangers are almost always men. Yes, that's right: he frequently sends his young, incredibly attractive daughters to strange men's houses with wads of cash. Although, to be fair to him, he does only ask the one of us who has a boyfriend who is willing to tag along. Since I am the only one with a significant other at the moment, I am that lucky daughter! And a very lucky Paco gets to be my unofficial bodyguard, a role with which is he thrilled, let me tell you.

My dad often says things like "I can't believe these people are parting with these [incredibly old & rusty] wood clamps for only $75! They must be insane!"  Yes, they are the insane ones.  If you ask him what he plans to do with all of these deals he finds, he'll tell you that he's going to clean up his shop and display it all to sell to other people.  He'll tell you how he's going to MAKE A FORTUNE once he starts selling all these top notch items that he practically stole from insane people.  Buy low, sell high, everyone knows that.  But you know what?  We're on Year 6 of Obsession Craigslist and he has sold exactly 0 things for the grand sum of $0.  I know, I can't believe it either. 

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go punch in "pepper spray" before my Craigslist mission tonight.

Move, Bitch, Get Out The Way

This past Sunday night, I went to the Ludacris concert. Me. A 30 year old woman with a boring finance job. I went to see LUDA perform at First Avenue. And you know what you guys? I am way too _____ for this shit. You may fill in the blank with any or all of the following: a) old; b) curmudgeonly; c) sober; d) easily annoyed.

Even just 2 short years ago, when Paco and I first started dating, we'd often go to shows during the week - shows that started at 10pm. We'd have several drinks, I'd dress nice & skanky-like, and we'd be out til 1am. Then I'd get up and get my sorry ass to work by 7:30 am (ok, maybe 7:50) the next day. Rinse & repeat. What has happened to me?! It's not just because I've turned 30, I know that much, because there was most definitely a 50+ year old woman next to me having a grand(ma) old time dancing like a stripper all night!

Which brings me to the real problem with Sunday night's show: WHEN DID EVERYONE DECIDE IT WAS OKAY TO "DANCE" IN PUBLIC LIKE THEY ARE IN THE MIDST OF A VERY, VERY DIRTY SEX ACT? More importantly, why do these individuals always end up right near me at venues like this? I looked around, people, and I definitely had the strangest people in the whole place right next to me. Occasionally bumping me with their "dance moves". I mean, in addition to the 50 year old, to the left of us there was a Snooki look-a-like dancing against the railing in a sort of cage that her one-night-stand boyfriend had created with his arms around her. For a while, I thought maybe she was having violent seizures, but I've never seen someone have a seizure that almost exclusively affected her ass. I am guessing that her special friend's junk was actually too bruised to even be useful later that night after all her gyrating. Although, then again, there was really no chance that she wasn't passed out by the time he might have been able to use his junk in the privacy of one of their cars or homes, or in a dark alley/whatever. Honestly. I've never seen anything like it.

Do people think this is sexy? Because I'll tell you what, it was about as sexy as imagining my grandparents have sex (ewww). I'll give her this: she was a distraction for sure, and I certainly couldn't stop looking at her, but not for the reason she might have been going for.

Were you guys expecting this to be about Ludacris or his show? Oh. Well here's what I'll say about that: HOLY SHIT THAT DUDE IS DIRRRTY. 3 R's dirty. That's how dirty. Apparently I've only ever listened to his music after it's been heavily edited for radio play. And methinks that's how I'll be listening to it going forward. I mean, I was uncomfortable with, like, 73% of his lyrics. Maybe I should add "prudish" to the fill-in-the-blank options above? Holy crap I am fun!

Playboy

My classy little sister, Laura, had a Match.com date last night - her first one with this particular gentleman. This morning she sent us a recap, which I will now share with you:

So, we were talking about the Wii and I said how I bought Mario Brothers games because I didn’t get them when I was younger. I said the only gaming system we had was a Playboy. So then a conversation like this took place:

Him: A playboy, huh?

Me: Ya, but we only had one so we had to share.

Him: How old were you?

Me: I don’t know. Maybe 10.

Him: So you enjoyed Playboy back then?

Me: I feel like you’re confused; I’m talking about that little gray hand-held game where you put the games in the back. It was fun.

Him: It’s called a Gameboy.

End Scene.

On Crankiness and Rear-Cleaning (Yes, Rear-Cleaning)

Today, I got annoyed because I saw a “Baby On Board” sign in the rear window of the SUV driving ahead of me on my way to work. I was thinking, “WHAT? Is that supposed to make me drive more safely? Because it’s not working. I drive safely [may be exaggeration] no matter what, not just to protect BABIES!” Frankly, I was irate about this sign. And then I thought to myself, “Self, you are in a terrible mood. Cheese’n’Rice, you best snap out of it!” But snapping out of a bad mood isn’t the easiest thing in the world to do, as I’m sure you know. So I’ve been pouty and cranky all day, hiding back in my little office and debating whether or not I should climb under my desk and take a nap. I also treated myself to a giant bowl of pasta (Mmmm….carbohydrate high!) for lunch, which helped until I hit that carbohydrate low that inevitably happens a few hours later. Sigh.

Anyway, a bright spot in my day has been this email conversation with my sisters:

Sarah: What if my job gives me a stroke? Huh? What then?

Laura: I’m close to that as well.

Miranda: Sarah, please don't have a stroke.

Sarah: Laura, at least you live with Miranda so she can wipe your rear and stuff like that.

Miranda: Excuse me?!?! I never said I'd wipe ANYONE’S rear.

Me: I am confused how we went from nothing to stroke. Like, shouldn't you get an ulcer in between there or something? Also, Miranda loves wiping rears! It's her favesies!

Laura: I’m more concerned with the “stuff like that”.
----
At this point, I thought the conversation was (sadly) dead, but a couple hours later, Sarah fired off this one:
----
Sarah: What if Laura requires rear end cleaning in order to save her life? Will you do it? Because earlier you said you wouldn't.

Me: I am curious about Miranda's commitment to stroke-ridden Laura too. Miranda, what do you have to say for yourself?

[2 minutes later, after re-thinking this scenario]

Me: Although, wait a minute - why does Laura need rear end cleaning to SAVE HER LIFE? I mean, I realize a permanently dirty rear could result in some kind of infection, but you make it sound like it can cause immediate death or something. Please elaborate.

Miranda: Okay no kidding, it wouldn't save her life if I wiped her butt. You people are insane.

Sarah: Well, no one really knows. It's a medical mystery. But it is what it is.

Me: Okay, I think maybe Sarah's already had that stroke.

I feel like Laura was either a) too busy at work to respond, or b) not that concerned about her rear end post-stroke. It's hard to know which at this point, but I think we can all agree that this conversation nicely illustrated the importance of having an End of Life Plan. You're welcome.

Spam Be Gone!

I finally had to enable comment moderation, you guys. Why? Not because I'm being inundated with vitriolic comments or anything, but because the Chinese(?) spammers suddenly LOVE my blog, and leave comments like this:

育隆 said... 憤怒，是片刻的瘋狂

WTF? That's NOT a comment. I mean, maybe it would be on another blog, but if it's completely incomprehensible here at Miss Minneapolis, it's not a comment. Does anyone read this language? Can someone tell me what it says? Because I think it says "click on the link I'm leaving here and your computer will self-destruct!" Because there's always a link (disabled above). Look, I like people of all nations, and I am happy to read your comments....if I can read your comments. Know what I'm sayin'?

Now a random story:

The other day, Paco and I were playing phone tag. Sometimes we'd leave each other messages, other times not. This went on for a few hours. Finally, he called me and I answered like this, "Phone tag!"

Silence.

"Brown pig?", he asked.

"What about a brown pig?"

"Why did you call me a brown pig?"

"I didn't."

"Yes, you did. You answered the phone 'Brown pig!'"

"I said 'Phone tag!' because we've been playing phone tag."

"Oh, I thought you called me brown pig, and I thought that was a strange way to answer the phone, but I could see you doing it."

So now sometimes I answer the phone "Brown pig!" very excitedly when he calls. And I have to say, I rather like it. I mean, how cute are brown pigs??