R.I.P. Martha Stewart

Lookie what I did! Me, in all my domestic glory, and in the same 30 day time frame, I both baked a cake and did crafts. 

A coffee cake for General Conference, because it is tradition. 

Delicious, yes. But not quite as good as my mom's because I didn't have enough sour cream.

And R.I.P. Martha Stewart, because I am knocking off your ideas and busting it out in my own house.

Purchased, glued, and glittered all by yours truly. 

These are my only Halloween decorations, and I'm okay with that. 

Needs

I need this entire outfit.

I perish! 

I must put on my fur collared coat and sit in the living room.

For Bob

Some unsolicited advice: If your cleaning routine (or whatever other routine you have) needs some pep, try L.E.S. Artistes by Santigold or Walking on a Dream by Empire of the Sun. I spend enough time cleaning that I have several Pandora stations dedicated as "high energy cleaning mixes." Nothing wrong with a little booty shake while you're scrubbing the bath tub. Don't imagine that.

This person, on the other hand...

...has not been doing much cleaning lately. This is Paige's room. She moved to Rexburg. So did Ian. So this is her room before we gave it a little makeover. I'll post 'after' pics as soon as I get around to taking them.

As for my bedroom makeover, I haven't gotten very far. I'm still trying to work out the living room. It's hard to collect pieces you love and have them all get along.

Sunburned my neck this afternoon. Went out by the river with Danny, Paige, Ian, and Ian's Korean roommate GP, and barbecued and hung out while Ian and Danny fished. Nobody caught anything, of course. But it's still warm here (80's people! I couldn't be happier.) so we had to take advantage.

El Casamiento de la Betsy

Betsy married Jackson in Manti, Utah. Besty is my supercool friend, and mission companion. 

She made her hairpiece and helped her mom make her dress. I know! So awesome!

Freshly sealed love.

 

Betsy is an art major, and her mom found this creative guestbook. Each half page was reserved for a sketch of whatever the book prompted, plus room to sign your name, obvio. For example, since I couldn't sketch the whole periodic table, I chose to sign on a page that said "secret door" and drew an ugly door covered with vines and rocks. 

Aside from the other delicious food (pulled pork, cornbread, mountains of fruit...) and desserts, this was their charming Tres Leches Cake covered in strawberries and cacti that Betsy made herself.

There we are, standing at the reception, minding our own business when all of a sudden my mission president and his wife breeze through the door! Whoa. Not expecting that. I was shocked to find my eyes filling with tears at the sight of them because I never felt like I deeply bonded with them (unlike most missionaries). I think it was the rush of all those memories and emotions coming back all at once.

Yes, we three (me, Abi, Betsy) were in a trio for three days. It was chaos. 

Cutie Jackson!

Two and a half of Betsy's three sisters. Poor Elise got hacked. Isn't it funny how different the sisters complexions are? Margaret looks like Rapunzel. Oh and their brother Preston is a dead ringer for Prince Harry. I wish I would have gotten a picture of the fab Jini, Betsy's if-you-were-a-boy-I'd-marry-you BFF and bridesmaid. Jini was in the MTC with us, she went to Germany.

Dancing in the backyard. Betsy holding Elise's baby. Lots of crazy dance moves. The reception was at This Is The Place Park in SLC, in the Kimball house. It was cool and old. The whole reception had a rustic, slightly latin-slash-victorian feel. Does that make sense?

 My cutie husband bustin' a move.

It was entertaining to watch Clarissa dance. Here it appears she has broken her wrist.

Amiguitas. Yay Betsy Brown!

Coke Army

Today the Coke Army took over the bottom shelf, engulfing the juice.

Don't you think Danny's orange juice is the icky kind? I don't like the false tangy orange flavor that sticks to the back of your tongue. You know the kind, the one that you got at birthday parties as a kid. Whoever thought cake and orange juice went together is sick. Just sick.

And the Winner Is...

Option 2!

They were both gorgeous schemes, but I like the idea of having a soothing, deep bluish hued bedroom. Thanks for sharing your thoughts people! Now for the small task of finding (and affording) everything a good bedroom needs. I've got a long way to go--I don't even have a bedskirt! What's the deal with bedskirts anyway? Do people still use them? And we're still using those rolling Tupperware drawers as nightstands. Sexy.

Anyway, if you see anything--nightstands, lamps, pillows, etc--online that would coordinate with that scheme, por favor let me know. (And don't act like you don't google housewares and bed linens!) Although, maybe I'll regret such a dark palette in the spring. There's also a chance I'm over-thinking this.

Off to Betsy's wedding tomorrow. {Trilling voice} So exciting! I can't wait to see her in all her wedding glory with that pixie cropped hair. More next week! Chau.

Colorboards

To the complainers: I will not apologize for being blog-absent. I was traveling for work for about a week, then it was catching up, then it was laziness.

I've been thinking about how I want to decorate our bedroom lately, and here is what I've whittled it down to. Both color palettes are Danny-approved (he has to sleep there too, so no frou-frou stuff), I want to know what you guys think. Feel free to comment your thoughts!

Option 1

Option 2

I nicked these from a wedding website, so please disregard the invites and what have you in the images.

An International Affair

We stumbled upon the International Folk Festival and Street Fair this evening by accident. We were looking for the new barbecue food cart, Blister, and there we found it: smack in the middle of almond-eyed Egyptian dancers, Rexburgian Mexicans with flat tops, and ragged toddlers dodging their parents.

The pulled pork sandwich was okay, but nothing to write home about. A little dry, if you must know. We then sampled various fudges. I preferred the pinoche, but theirs was too soft so we brought home a baby brick of turtle fudge.

Meanwhile, crazy pre-teen double-dutchers were getting down to Lady Gaga in the middle of Main Street. I was a little shocked that the parents in this convent-esque town allowed their children to jump rope to such "controversial" music. Lady Gaga represents everything Rexburg abhors: Bisexuality, free love, and lookin' good.

I'm a tad ashamed to admit I saw Salt this weekend, and enjoyed it. I think I get embarrassed when I want to see something that has Angelina Jolie in it because I think of her as a tramp. I don't care how many kids she adopts or how many things she does with the UN, the woman's trampy. And weird. However. I always like a good spy/action movie. Maybe it's because I'm a total badass in my dreams. That's right, I fight and shoot guns with the best of them.

Friends, Flowers, and a Graduation

What's going on in Rexburg?

Well, there are still packs of unnecessary six-tire diesel trucks roaring around, regularly breaking the sound ordinance. And I say unnecessary because these aren't the farmers hauling potatoes, these are the pretty boys. Our neighbors are pretty boys. We've got 'Lexus boy' on the right and 'I'm-too-cool-to-drive-a-car-with-only-four-tires' on the left.

What else, what else? Oh, yes. Z.Bob's wedding. And Danny's graduation. We'll do graduation first because he's my spouse. But let's face it, while graduations are exciting, nothing really compares to a fun wedding.

Yay! Three schools in 10 years and now graduation!

What-what.

And now for the big guns. 

Bob and Dave!

Disclaimer: I'm not very good at taking pictures. Any good pictures you see below (that are arranged in no order whatsoever) were taken by the lovely Kristin. Thanks Kristin, for letting me rip you off. 

Look at that dress! Gorgeous! And it was so her. She was perfection!

Bob's bouquet...sorry I had to chop Lisa off.

The Stauffer family.

Amigos. This is my public apology for messing up the picture by looking at the wrong photographer. Whoops. L to R: Siera, Me, Bob, Alex, Lauren, Kristen.

The bride looked so fine.

Enough said.

Guest table. Their theme was lovebirds, so instead of a guest book, you put your thumb print on a tree.

Delicious cake.

Tables.

After fireworks about to make the sparkler tunnel.

Carrie primping Bob. Carrie is does amazing hair and makeup.

Another shot of the tables. They're still missing quite a few flower arrangements here.

Head table. The meal was catered by the taco bus. Yum!

Beverage table/Bobbie & Dave memory lane.

Yes, they had a pinata. It was AWESOME.

At the end of the night, all the flowers were going to be thrown away! I was distraught. So Danny ran home and got a box and we will filled it with flowers. I have three arrangements in every room. Like the roses, peonies, and dahlias with Frida...

Hydrangeas on the bookcase...

Roses in the bathroom...you get the idea.

The end. Posting this many pictures was annoying. So it may be a while before I blog again.

The Sharp Knife of a Short Life

Depression. I made a big batch of velvety guacamole and instead of putting it in the fridge, I absentmindedly put it in the pantry. Over night. Rotten guacamole cannot be salvaged, in case you were all wondering.

Loving this song and the beautiful scenery.

Salesmen

What is it about salesmen that makes them so slimy? Another good question: why do I let them get to me?

Today I had a meeting with a vendor I had met before, but the previous meeting was brief. This man sports a perma-slicked 'do, and is tanned and bleached to an excess. Every conversation is conducted with his eyeballs boring into your skull. While killing time before the meeting began he began asking about our personal lives. He began by complimenting my hair (trying to score points? I don't know!), and then this:

Sleazebag: So do you have kids?
Me: I--
Sleazebag cutting me off: No, of course you don't have kids! You don't look like you have any kids! Are you thinking about having kids anytime soon?
Me: I haven't even been married a year. So, no.
Sleazebag: Whoa ho! So that's why you're smiling like that! Only married a year! Oh my gosh! Your face got all red! (Laughing)  Maybe we should talk about something else!
Me: I am? I guess I blush easily. Anyway.

I didn't even feel myself blushing! I was probably getting red-faced because I felt like saying, 'Look "partner," I don't know you, and this is a business setting--my future baby making plans are NOT on the table for discussion.' Sometimes it's so hard to be nice! Every time I'm snippy with someone at work it always comes back to bite me in the you know what. I'm constantly reminding myself to be nice. That is pathetic, don't try and tell me otherwise!

Yesterday was my birthday. It was pleasant. Last Saturday we went to dinner and a movie with Lindsay and Ronnie. I spent most of yesterday evening watching Megastructures (specifically the episode about the Alhambra in Spain) in bed and eating Symphony bars. People at work were nice to me even though I'm not to them, and Danny was especially wonderful. Exhibit A.

Remnants of the pasta carbonara he made, plus cherries, my favorite.

A heart pillow I had been eyeing for sometime. Not pictured: a print of a Frida Kahlo self-portrait. I'll take a pic of that once it's on the wall.

Gorgeous bouquet. Not from Danny. But they are from another woman--nothing scandalous going on!

Flowers in their natural habit: my living room. I haven't posted a picture of my mirrored cabinet yet, so here it is. Let's see what's on top of there... blue gourd lamp (a recommendation from B Ru who sent me this e-card for my birthday), a candle warmer that needs to go somewhere less conspicuous, a plant that needs to be re-potted, and books that are flattening the Frida print. Oh and the brown paper is Bobbie's wedding invite. Yay!

People with good ideas as to what I should put on and above the cabinet, please comment! even if you don't have any ideas about that, comment anyway, I like visitors. Promise I won't write a nasty comment as a response.