The thing about wedding planning...

photo by Jake Wood Photography

Where I left off, I wanted to share the wedding planning journey that Anthony and I embarked on last spring. The thing about wedding planning is that it isn't all cake tasting, picking flowers and sunshine/rainbows/unicorns. If you're bound and determined to plan this thing yourself, and I can see why people hire planners now, it can be a second job. Making phone calls (what happened to the hotel block?!) and clarifying your vision, if in fact you even have a vision (no mauve! no mauve anywhere!) and sticking up for the choices you've made, even if they're unpopular with friends, family, and strangers who think it's their business. Along the way, I think I've learned a few valuable lessons that are worth passing on:


1. Nail down the guest list early on. The first question wedding vendors will ask you is: "what's your guest list?" You need this number to determine what size venue you'll choose, how big your wedding band should be, and even how many centerpieces you'll need. It's all about the number.


2. Write down your wedding budget, then triple it. Maybe I went into this thing naively, but I honestly thought $10,000 would be the ideal wedding budget...and it would have been...if we were inviting 50 people. Nothing against small weddings! In another life we would have eloped to a castle in Ireland with our nearest and dearest, but we both come from large families and it was very important for us to share our day with them. The more guests you have, the more the cost of the wedding adds up.

Checking out wedding venues in New Orleans

3. Step away from the Pinterest! (on occasion). I considered hanging a "Wedding brought to you by Pinterest" banner behind our cake table. It's true. I got tons of ideas browsing, and I was able to save my ideas on a secret board (so I wouldn't give everything away) and keep everything organized. However! It is really easy to get carried away by the wealth of inspiration on the site. It's a double edged sword, it can help you focus your vision, but it can also make you question it. If you're starting to doubt your choices, give yourself a break.


4. Your groom wants to help. I knew going in that Anthony would have opinions. As is his right, it's his wedding too! He's actually been to a lot more weddings than I have, and has a great idea of what will work and what won't. At the height of my frenzy to get a lot of wedding tasks done, he stepped in and asked me to, "lay it on him." I wrote down a pretty extensive list, and we've been working through it together.


5. You don't "have to" anything. You will get caught up in all the accouterments that supposedly must accompany a wedding. But the truth is, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do. Wedding welcome bags at the hotel? No one will miss them. Wedding favors upon wedding favors? No one cares. Custom napkins? People will spit their gum out in them or throw them away. At the end of the day, put your budget towards things people will actually enjoy: food, drinks, and live music, and prioritize the things that you love and will make you happy.



Despite the to-do list a mile long and stressing out over the details, we're really happy and excited to be planning a wedding for our families to come together!

Da Dum Da Dum!

 

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Kiley Kate is gettin' hitched! My mind has been occupied with the logistics of what should go where and how, but it's nice to stop and savor the creative aspects of the wedding-planning process. Invitations for example. I had no idea what an obsession I had with colors, themes, and fonts. I'm designing some of our programs and such which has been a fun foray into the creative for me lately. Maybe I could share those a bit later?

We've also decided to get married in New Orleans! Rich colors, gas flare lanterns, and visions of Spanish moss-covered elm trees have been crossing my mind as of late.

This is kind of a funky way to come back to a long-ignored blog, but I thought it would help me organize my thoughts somehow? Catalog the fun part of the process rather than the multiple phone calls and contracts that go into booking venues and vendors and hotel blocks. It's also a time of transition as Anthony and I decide what to do next. Chicago has been our home for a little over five years, but we're enjoying entertaining the what-ifs lately...we'll see!

Jake Wood

Look at these two wild and crazy kids!

Once and a While...

It's summer...

I'm 27...

I'm well traveled...

And I'm having fun!

Just thought you might wanna know ;)

Battle Scars

I got back to my half-packed studio apartment around 1:00pm, 70 degrees, a beautiful fall day. My anxious Dad who can't sit still without drumming his fingers and yet spent two listless days in a hospital with me while I whined and felt like my stomach had been turned inside out, helped me out of his car and to the sidewalk. He carried heavy grocery bags and took small steps so that I could shuffle behind him. Bent over and running my fingers along the sides of the buildings as we passed just in case I decided I couldn't walk anymore. I was so excited to leave the hospital that I hadn't bothered to wait for a wheelchair and I'd ripped the irritating pain patch off hours ago. I was starting to feel the effects.

The previous week I had my gallbladder removed, my stomach reconstructed, and my nerves clipped so hopefully all my gastritis woes would be behind me. This following an extremely emotional time in the ER where I came to grips with the fact that I would be missing work and weeks of performances for All My Sons. Countless friends and family members were there to console me from over the phone, in person, and through some very beautiful floral arrangements. One particular special lady brought me magazines and sat by my side while I slept, mumbled and hyperventilated. Another special guy wrecked his back sleeping on my hospital room sofa so I wouldn't be alone and let me rest my tear-streaked snot-nosed face on his arm. A very special Mom helped me practice walking and getting to the restroom when I was too physically weak to sit up and too emotionally spent to do anything but cry. I'd never felt so lucky to have these people in my life while simultaneously being completely miserable about events completely out of my control.

On the warm fall day I got out of the hospital I sat down on my courtyard apartment's lobby radiator while Dad carried the groceries up the stairs. Anthony came just in time to ease me into bed and prop pillows under my feet and tell me that the pain wouldn't be forever. I cried for maybe the 1,000th time in ten days and he stroked my hand while I fell asleep.

I woke up around dusk to eat some chicken noodle soup and curl up on the couch like a rickety old cat. I watched History Detectives with Dad, who confided in me that it's exactly how he pictured us spending my recovery time together. It was a rock n' roll episode tracing Bob Dylan's guitar and a collage made by Frank Zappa. The collage struck me. An artist more commonly known for his musical experimentation producing such a wild piece of artwork that expressed his musical thoughts on paper before sitting down to write the music itself. I asked myself: "What have I created lately?" I fell still at the thought of unfinished projects, once desired creative goals and this blog.

Armed with new battle scars I'm ready to run back into the trenches of my creative outlets. To do what I set out to do when I moved to Chicago and get my writing back on track. Nothing can stop me now, not even my own internal organs. 

Sunday

Memorial Day weekend and it has yet to feel like summer is right around the corner. That may have something to do will the demoralizing cold and wet April, but you know how it goes: April Showers bring May Flowers. But just so you're aware, May Flowers don't bring pilgrims. Mayflowers do, and that happened in November. So explain that to me, fool. 

Nonsensical rhymes aside, I'm really excited for the upcoming summer. E will be coming to Chicago for my birthday weekend (Treat Yo' Self 2013) and in July it'll be off to Missouri for my grandparent's 60th wedding anniversary. And, of course, there's always Chicago in the summer to look forward to. I swear that seeing this city in the summer almost makes the winters worth it...almost.

Hope you're having a great Sunday!


-K.K.

Memorial Weekend

Dressing on a theme? You know I can't resist it. Someone re-pinned my Memorial Weekend outfit post from last year and it reminded me of my neglected blog and subsequent neglected Polyvore. Seeing as my brain decided to be awake at 5:30am this morning (what the heck brain?) I thought I'd put my time to good use and paint my nails while creating a set. Could I have maybe cleaned my room, done laundry, or taken out the trash? Sure. But I'm thinking silver glitter nail polish is going to do more for my morale this weekend than a clean apartment. AmIright?

As per usual I create three dream-scenarios and one outfit that's probably closest to the truth. Seeing as I'll be building sets on Monday I think you can guess what I'll be wearing...

Have a great Memorial Weekend!

Sunday

When I moved in to my studio apartment I had a couple conflicting feelings about it. The first was utter shock; I had just started a new job and my world had been turned upside down. The second was this giggly weird freedom that made me feel like a little girl playing house rather than an adult paying her own rent. It was confusing, and I find that it still is some nights when I come home to read blogs or watch a movie by myself in MY Chicago apartment.

After moving in I stocked my little half-a-fridge and bought an off-brand, sub-par jar of salsa. I tried opening it and the lid wouldn't budge. I dug my trusty jar opener out of a moving box but the lid stayed put. I ran it under hot water, submerged it in my sink upside down, tried hitting the edge of the lid against my half-a-stove and even went at it with a can opener. For the past seven months I would peer in to the fridge, see that jar of salsa taunting me and give it the old college try. It's become this running joke with Mom: should I lure a guy under false pretenses back to my apartment just so he can open the jar of salsa for me? Or maybe it's my King Arthur moment, he who opens the salsa get the...sword?

The silly thing is I will go to the grocery store and looking at the salsa aisle only strengthens my resolve to march  back to my apartment and open my own salsa. Recently the old fashioned way didn't work as per usual and I tried to get through the top with a wine corker almost cutting my fingers and breaking the corkscrew. "Am I really going to wait for someone to come along and open this damn jar of salsa?" I thought munching on unflavored taco chips.

This Cinco de Mayo I went grocery shopping with a firm purpose. I picked out my favorite jar (no off brands) plunked that baby in the cart and hoped for the best. Low and behold upon my triumphant return to the apartment the jar clicked open like a magical symphony of angels and was consumed with a considerable amount of swagger.


And that is the story that made me want to blog just a lil' bit.

I hope you're having a lovely Sunday!


-K.K.

Better Run

Running and I have a love hate relationship. Which is to say that I love what running does for me but I hate, hate, HATE lacing up and doing it. Of course it's not unusual to love the results of something you don't want to do...giving up junk food or sitting down to write for instance. Any time I plan a run I make an excuse: "what if I lifted instead? what if I walk around the grocery store for an hour, does that count?" I'm sure it all counts for something, but not what I'm trying to accomplish.

A few days before leaving for Atlanta I woke up promising myself that after breakfast and some indulgent Pinterest-ing I would hit the trails. But upon rolling out of bed my mental block had other plans.

A thought occurred to me as I was staring down at my old, ripped up Asics. One of my best pieces of advice that always works: get dressed, walk out your front door. If you still don't feel like working out after you've gone through all the effort to prepare, then don't. I reasoned that even if I got out my front door and just took a walk down to Lake Shore my legs would recognize the familiar rhythm and know what to do. And they did.

For twenty minutes and I zipped up and down the sidewalk along with honking rush traffic and a homeless man that called me "pretty lady". Aw shucks! Of course he followed it up by asking if I was alone, to which I unapologetically about-faced and sprinted back to my apartment. Sweaty, panting, blissfully satisfied  Now that it's starting to warm up around these parts picking up running might not be such a bad idea.

Sunday

This trip to Atlanta was everything I needed...

...and nothing I didn't.


E and I kicked around the city drinking frozen Jack and Cokes and enjoying the general splendor of the weather and Final Four fans all flooding the city at once. We ran the Color Run, went to a Braves game, completed a scavenger hunt through a cemetery (despite my total lack of word search skills), saw some impressive aquatics at the Georgia Aquarium, ate a lot of ice cream and played Settlers of Catan. It's okay to admit that you're jealous because I continue to be bummed that I can't go back and do it all over again this weekend.


Until my next adventure I suppose.

Have a great Sunday everyone!

-K.K.

On My Mind

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Packing my little carry on and taking the orange line to the airport straight after work. This trip has been in the making since last January when Miss E moved and I could not be more excited about running the Color Run, eating ice cream, and kicking around the city with my friends. Arrivederci Chicago and here I come Atlanta!

En Route

One of my guilty pleasures now that I live in the city is taking my car for a drive on the weekend. I'll take the long way to run errands past the lake, near downtown, looking out at the giant Ferris Wheel on Navy Pier. I never thought I would miss driving, but I was spoiled with great road trips as a kid so maybe that has something to do with it. Reading books and magazines aloud, playing eye spy, putting on the Chicago Bulls mix tape and jamming along (don't even pretend you didn't root for the dream team).








Strangely enough, the very start of Route 66 is right outside my window at work, and
having been bitten by the travel bug quite some time ago sometimes I want to hit the open road Thelma and Louise style...except for all the murder...but Brad Pitt can totally come.


Headed anywhere fun this summer? Can I come too?

Sort-Of Spring

On mornings when I have the day off and where there's no particular agenda except some minor errands to be run, and spring is peaking ever so slightly through the 38 degree weather, I like to think of my old job at the zoo. I sold tickets, and normally around this time we processed a lot of field trips and early morning arrivals, most notably on "Senior Tuesdays" where bus loads of the senior-ist of citizens would show up and enjoy the peace and quiet of a mostly uncrowded zoo.

One morning a gentleman showed up bright eyed and bushy tailed and parked himself at my window before I even had a chance to settle in and count my change. Usually it's distracting when someone wants to talk to you prior to opening because your brain hasn't had time to prepare the "customer service" attitude and you feel that they should know that in advance. Terrible, but you know what I mean. In any case he was funny, charming, at not at all senior-like. We joked around a bit and I asked him what he was doing at the zoo so early. "It doesn't look like it, but I'm already retired. And some mornings, as a retired person, you just have to wander around and hope that someone gives you coffee." I laughed; what a fantastic aspiration. Low and behold two hours after opening he wandered out, coffee cup in hand, and made his way back to the parking lot.

My point being, that on a sort of spring day like this, I just want to pull on my jeans, wander the neighborhood, and hope that someone can give me coffee somewhere along the way. 

Out Like a Lion

via Design Love Fest

via Brooklyn Blonde

via Hello Fashion

via This Time Tomorrow

via See Jane.

First day of spring and Chicago celebrated by letting the temperature drop 10 degrees from yesterday. Did I mention the wind chill? Way to be Chi, way to be.


As I was walking home after work, a girl bemoaning the weather to her dog expressed my thoughts: "I don't care what it's like tomorrow. I've got tights, I've got a jacket, I'm wearing that new spring dress!" Woman after my own heart. Loving her new spring clothes and telling her dog all about it. So I decided to throw caution to the wind and dig my white jeans out of under bed storage today. Seems like the perfect mix of practical/warm and fresh/spring.

Sunday

The Anatomy of a Chicago St. Paddy's Day Hangover:


A coffee run is the obvious first step and you feel like you're making the right choice by getting it iced despite the frigid temperatures. At least the ice cubes are hydrating. A line of college basketball players waiting for steak and cheese bagels makes you wonder if you'll catch the El on time, which you do. You start to wonder if people have noticed your green jeans that were so obviously for last night's festivities, but then realize that Sunday is actual St. Patrick's Day. Score.


Sip carefully on the iced coffee and wait to get home to devour the muffin in your purse that you're saving for when the time is right and your exact specifications have been met. The neighbors pomeranians silently but happily greet you at the front gate  furthering your longing for a dog but your pounding head confirms that it's a responsibility you can't handle. Grateful that the other neighbors are making something with rosemary in it today as opposed to curry as you lug your sad cramped up legs up three flights.


A twenty minute boiling hot shower/teeth brushing combination makes you feel at least half way human but now you can't bring yourself to get out of the shower. The comfiest of sweats are carefully chosen. One minute of getting situated on the couch with Chicago Fire playing on your laptop and a bite of the patiently awaited muffin confirms that you're not going anywhere. A quick facebook scan and a text from a friend confirms that people do still go out drinking on actual St. Patrick's Day but obviously not like Chicagoans do on Saturdays.

Break-Fast

JUST in case you weren't aware just about every day in the United States has a food holiday. For example, March 6th is National Frozen Food Day as well as National White Chocolate Cheesecake day...I'll leave it up to you which you'd prefer to celebrate.


Allegedly Monday was National Breakfast Day according to a normally reliable source. Further investigation shows it was actually National Poundcake Day, but that is neither here nor there. What it did inspire me to do is get creative with my breakfast food (for dinner) for a solid week...

Monday was (frozen) waffles with blueberries, although this recipe for blueberry syrup would have been a nice addition. Tuesday was a "hangover melt" courtesy of Glamour, recipe here. Tonight was crispy roasted potatoes. Original recipe calls for a regular potato with parmesan and seasoning salt, but I made a sweet potato with cinnamon and a little bit of brown sugar. Either way it would be delicious, recipe here.


Tomorrow I'm thinking Chai Spice or Scotcharoo Oatmeal, although I can't ignore the fact that March 7th is National Cereal Day...but let's be honest I would celebrate that morning, noon, for 365 if I could.


What's your favorite breakfast treat? (Waffle Day is March 26th, mark it on your calendars! Ridiculous list of food holidays here)

Travel: Atlanta

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With the Atlanta trip less than a month away, E asked me what I wanted to do while I was there other than the Color Run and promptly stuffing our faces afterwards. I've never been outside the Atlanta airport so this may take some research, but here's what I have so far...

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Stone Mountain Park seems like a relaxing place for a hike with my niece Kira. E's reaction: The KKK started there! Thank you scenic Georgia.

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Historic Oakland Cemetary Tours...this may seem like a strange one, but E and I have been kicking around historic cemeteries since our high school days...take that how you will, we just find them fascinating.

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I ask for recommendations at work when tourists from Atlanta roll through, and almost all of them say the Georgia Aquarium...or the World of Coca-cola tour? Since my love of sea creatures far outweighs my feelings towards sugary beverages (unless the Jack Daniels factory is magically attached) then I think I'll be spending a day at the Aquarium. 

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Either that or E's membership to the Zoo Atlanta since ohmygawd a baby orangutan was just born! My heart beat still!

I've heard good things about the Atlanta History Center and and I could get free tickets to the High Museum of Art and E suggested going to the Cubs/Braves game too! Of course I don't want to spend my whole vacation doing touristy things so I should probably narrow it down. Hopefully further foursquare investigation will lead me to some good bars and hangouts.

Have you ever been to Atlanta? What can I absolutely not miss?