A Sneak Peek At Our Engagement Photos!

A few weeks ago on a bright and sunny Monday afternoon in March,  Wade and I met with our super rad wedding photographer Brandi with Lola Jo Photo Design to have our engagement photos taken.

We have been so excited to collaborate with Brandi on these photos because she was our first choice for our wedding photographer, and photography was one of the first major wedding details we nailed down after getting engaged.

However, I super duper hate getting my photo taken.  It's not because I hate how I look.  I just feel really uncomfortable being the center of attention.

There are Portias and there are Ellens on this red carpet of life.  I am an Ellen.

But our afternoon with Brandi went swimmingly and I think the results speak for themselves!

Scroll down for the big reveal!

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BOOM.  Photo magic in your face.

Okay.... here are some actual engagement photos.

Needless to say, I am so pleased with the results and I can't wait for our big day to get here!

In other news, my wedding dress arrived and it fits perfectly so I can eat all of the hot dogs I want (within reason) up until my wedding day and it will be A-OK.  Huzzah!

AHEM!

Oh HI!!

Did you see?! Did you SEE?!!  That's me and the Italian Sea Captain of My Heart and Soul.

Or here... this is better (Sorry, Kris!!):

So, in addition to falling in lurve with a sea captain, it was an incredibly eventful and fun trip!

We started the first day in the airport in Wichita... I arrived approximately 8 hours early because I am a cursed with the infamous Hensley Compulsive Punctuality Disorder.

The travel was uneventful, and we arrived at our hotel in South Beach unscathed. After a minor problem involving our hotel reservation, we checked in and went out to explore.

We found out that something called the 'Art Deco Weekend' was going on... lots of vendors and live music on Ocean Drive.  We wandered around, ate giant slices of pizza at Pizza Rustica...

I think this had goat cheese and olives... it was really good.

I got hit on and ran away from some creepy dude who wanted to 'be my boyfriend', and participated in FREE! happy hour at our hotel..

All in all it was a good night.

We woke up bright and early Saturday and made our way to the famous News Cafe for breakfast...

Eggs Florentine.. yum!

And finally got our first look at the actual beach...

We loaded up in a taxi and made our way to the ship...

The hair situation... I was having issues with the humidity.

And within like 15 minutes we were already on the ship.... seriously the EASIEST embarkation.  Way to go Carnival!!

We said ' Au Revoir Auf Wiedersehen Hasta Luego' to Miami...

And the real party was underway...

These were disgusting... and free.

TO BE CONTINUED... DUN DUN DUN.

The Captain and I

Do not be deceived by this photo.  You are not looking at this year's top grossing real estate team.  What you are looking at are two diabolical, scheming stalkers.


What happened is that one day Kristine, my sister in law, and I were sitting quietly together reading scented, glossy magazines in a tucked away corner of the ship just happily minding our own business (but probably gossiping about our fellow passengers) when who should walk by us in his fancy schmancy uniform?

Capitano Stefano, of course. (That's Captain Stefano to the non-Italian speakers... I hope you picked up on the condescending tone in that)

We tracked him down to a conference room where he was performing a wedding ceremony (what a weird, old-fashioned tradition, by the way), sneaked back to our seats, and waited patiently.  It wasn't too much longer until he passed us by again, and I made sure to make eye contact and say 'hello'.

And, you guys, he actually winked at me.

Apparently that is all it takes to put me into Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction mode.

Here is the photo evidence of what transpired as a result of this one miniscule chance encounter and my slow descent into madness:

This is a sneaky stalker photo of the Captain's arm and his cute white pants as he walked past us minding his own business on the way to dinner.

 

Here is a sneaky stalker photo of me with the Captain (circled in red). Please note the skeptical look on my face.

Here is an incredibly creepy photo Kristine took of herself with Captain  outside of the  steakhouse.

This is me posing with what we decided, for what reason no one will ever know, was the Captain's favorite painting.

And, finally, this is me writing poetry to the sea... probably about the Captain.

The verdict:  We are giant fucking weirdos and we will probably be receiving a letter in the mail informing us that we are banned from all Carnival ships forthwith.


Also, here is an extra special bonus stalker photo of Aleksandar making toast... in case you were doubting our (mostly Kristine's) supreme stalking abilities.

So there you have it... NEWS FLASH! I am ridiculous, but I think most people had that figured out a long time ago, and, to be honest, I'm kind of proud to say I'm 30 and I behave far more ridiculously now than I ever did at age 14. So there.


Stay tuned for a bonus Imaginary Boyfriend Thursday post later today!

Aleksandar

Sure there are loads of things I could tell you about from our cruise adventure... islands, beaches, little umbrella drinks, but the truth is there are only one or two really worth sharing (that's not even kind of true... there are shit tons of things worth sharing).

But mainly there was Aleksandar:

I don't think Aleksandar would be smiling if he knew how hard we stalked him all week long.

Aleksandar is from Montenegro.  He made toast for us every morning.  Well, technically, he made toast for the entire ship, but we like to think he made it extra special just for us.

He also made us a rose out of a napkin and danced to Flo Rida on a table in the dining room.

He is also probably married and may or may not have 6 children.  Who knows? I never trouble myself with petty details.

My sister in law and I are planning on moving somewhere with Aleksandar where polygamy is legal and becoming sister wives.  It's going to be so rad.


Stay tuned tomorrow for Chapter 2: My Passionate Love Affair With Captain Stefano

Autobiographical

This vignette created itself on my desk so I decided to photograph it. It will be part of my first photography exhibition titled 'Diary of A Mad White Woman'.

Coming soon to a gallery near no one.

Fiend

Let's take a break from talking about dieting, exercising, and other forms of torture to address another of my obsessions.

You guys... I've got a problem with nail polish.

I'm not sure when it started.  For years I never particularly cared about nail polish... mostly because I never really had the patience to sit still long enough to paint my nails and let them dry, but in the past 2 years or so it's become one of my favorite and my best addictions.

Hence the drawer:

That would be my nail polish/manicure drawer.  It's not terrible... there are ladies out there (most of them with entire blogs devoted to the topic of nail polish) who have closets full of polish.  The problem is that the drawer is growing at a very unreasonable rate.  A lot of these polishes I have only worn once. Some of them maybe even never.  And I fully intend on buying more.  In fact, I have an Ulta gift card burning a hole in my pocket as we speak, practically begging me to buy more nail polish.

And I just remembered that I have 2 new Zoya polishes on their way to me in the mail due to this amazing deal. I am out of control.

Someday you are all going to see me on an episode of Hoarders living in my nail polish drawer with just a tiny little space cleared for myself to sleep. 

And it will be glorious.

So to justify all of this nail polish I've decided it would be fun to feature a little 'Nail Polish o' the Week' photo in my sidebar.  

This week's polish was a bit of an experiment.  I decided to use a dark brown polish from Zoya called Codie, but then after it was done it just wasn't doing much for me so I hit it with one coat of a blingy gold glitter polish from Butter London called West End Wonderland. It's an interesting color... kind of hard to describe... like a murky bronze-y gold.  I'm not in love with it, but it was worth a shot.  

Birthday Shower Recipes, Volume II: White Russian Cupcakes and Sherbet Punch

First of all, how the hell is the word 'sherbet' pronounced... 'sure-burt'? 'sure-bet'? 'sure-bay'?

Let's just pronouce it 'delicious' and get to the recipes.

You guys, my birthday shower/small-scale P.Diddy white party went off without a hitch.

I didn't wear white because I discovered that the only garment I own that is white is my high school graduation gown.  Why do I still possess my high school graduation gown, you ask? Because I'm planning on being a hoarder when I grow up.

But beyond that, I thought the decorations looked pretty cute.  And the food was mighty tasty.

I made pineapple sherbet punch based off of this recipe from All Recipes... except that I used gingerale instead of Sprite or 7-up because I like it better.

I forgot to take any photos of the punch... probably because I was too busy pouring punch glass after punch glass of it down my throat.

But I did remember to take a photo of the White Russian cupcakes before I started applying them to my face.


I used my favorite recipe for White Wedding Cake cupcakes and adapted it by substituting Kahlua for the typical white wedding cake flavorings (some use just vanilla, some use almond extract... I prefer to use 2 products called 'creme bouquet' and 'almond emulsion', both of which are available at cake decorating/baking supply stores).

The frosting for these cupcakes turned into a trial... a very unnecessary one. I'm going to give you the recipe for my my favorite buttercream recipe.  I tried to use a cream cheese icing recipe from Pinterest that was supposed to be fabulous. It wasn't, and I had to add insane amounts of powdered sugar to make it firm enough to use on the cupcakes. They taste great, but I also probably have 5  new cavities from eating them. My usual buttercream recipe from The Kitchen Magpie has never ever failed me so I think you should use it.

The result was a subtly Kahlua-flavored cake and frosting.  I suppose it would have been more in keeping with the cocktail to add vodka to the mix, but in all honesty when I drink white russians I'm basically just drinking Kahlua-flavored milk and I don't really care about the vodka. And it was my birthday. So there.

White Russian Cupcakes

Cake (yields approximately 36 cupcakes):

1 (18.25 oz) box of white cake mix
1 c. all-purpose flour
1 c. granulated sugar
3/4 tsp. salt
1 1/3 c. water
2 T. canola oil
1 T. Kahlua
1 c. sour cream
4 egg whites

Preheat oven to 325°.  Go ahead an put your cupcake liners into your muffin tins.

Whisk together your dry ingredients. Add everything else and beat with a hand mixer until smooth and well blended.

Use a standard size ice-cream scoop to scoop batter into lined muffin tins.  They should be around 3/4 full. Bake 18 to 20 minutes until toothpick inserted into middle of cupcake comes back out with a few crumbs clinging to it.

Cool on wire rack.

I found the recipe for this icing (minus the Kahlua) a couple of months ago on Pinterest and it has since become my all time favorite.

Icing:

1 c. salted butter, softened
3 tsp. Kahlua
4 c. powdered sugar
4 to 5 T. of heavy whipping cream.

Whip the butter (preferably with the paddle attachment of your mixer) for a couple of minutes... until it's nice and fluffy (sort of like firm mayonnaise... side note: Firm Mayonnaise would be a great name for a punk band).

Add the powdered sugar and beat it some more... another minute or so.  Now add your heavy cream.  I would probably use 4 for this recipe... 5 will make the icing whippier. Also add your Kahlua.

Now whip the hell out of it until it looks whippy and heavenly.

I just filled a ziploc and cut the corner off to decorate my cupcakes... mostly because this is the extent of my decorating abilities.  Well that and sticking a cute color-coordinated sixlet on top of the frosting.  I'm really good at that too.

And thus concludes my series of birthday recipes.

By the way, guys, 30 feels great!

New Year, Same Jess

Look at all the loot I scored at New Year's Eve Bingo!

The nail polish/manicure clutter in the background is representative
of another of my obsessions we'll address on  another day.

That would be:
- A Gin and Titonic ice cube mold
- Peanut erasers
- Bowling Dice game
- And a kicky new dish towel

The elements of my New Year's that cannot be accurately represented in a photo are the amounts of cheese fondue and bacon I ate.

That's how you do New Year's Eve right, you guys: cheese fondue and bacon.

Champagne is so last year. Basic bitches drink that shit so I don't even bother.

In other important news, I went all Type A on my cruise packing/to do list this morning. I've got dinner outfits planned for every night on the ship down to what jewelry I'm wearing, clutch I'm carrying, make up style I'm applying, and hair style I'll be styling. Sweet McGillicuddy Jesus, I am organized and so ready for this trip.

I was totes having a white girl problem though because I have lost quite a bit of weight since summer, therefore all of my shorts are too big and look super stupid all cinched up with my belt.

I realize that this is an awesome problem to have, you guys.

But, no matter how awesome, I still had to try and find some new, smaller shorts in the dead middle of winter! And, lo and behold, Old Navy actually had some in my size. Super duper score.

So besides all of the sunless tanner I need to apply, I'm pretty much ready to go.  Applying sunless tanner is going to be my new hobby for the next 3 weeks.

Source.

Let's all collectively pray this doesn't happen.

These

This...

Emerald City by Revlon with Seche Vite Top Coat. Pardon my less than spectacular nail beds.

A lot of this...

This ridiculous (and embarrassingly awesome) song...

And some of these...

I would take a better photo, but I ate it the second I took this photo.

Which are from this recipe...

Oreo Truffles

Ingredients:

1 pkg. Oreo cookies

1 8oz pkg. cream cheese, softened

2 boxes Baker's Semi-sweet chocolate

Crush the Oreos ( I used the food processor, but I've also used a blender and a rolling pin for this task). Set aside approximately 1/2 cup or crumbs for decorating the truffles later.  Place the rest in a bowl, add the cream cheese and beat with a mixer until you can no longer see any white.  Roll into walnut sized balls and place on a foil lined cookie sheet. Put the balls into the refrigerator to firm up... about 30 minutes.  

In the meantime. unwrap all of the chocolate and place in a microwave safe bowl.  Melt according to instructions (on the back of the box).  Using the method of your choice (I employ 2 toothpicks. One to spike the ball and drop into the chocolate, the other to remove the ball from the toothpick) dip each truffle into chocolate and place back onto foil lined sheet. Sprinkle with some of the reserved crushed cookies.  This hides the toothpick hole and makes them prettier.

Put the truffles back into the refrigerator to chill for approximately 30 minutes or as long as you can stand, whichever comes first.  Now proceed to eat yourself sick.  

With all of these in my arsenal I am fully prepared to make this Monday my prison bitch, y'all.

P.S. Did anyone else watch the 'Geek Love' show on TLC last night?  It was awesome, awkward, and gloriously cute.  I want the guy Chewie (he does a Chewbacca impression) and the Mandalorian (spelling?) girl to hook up! They are perfect for each other.

I Won't Quit My Day Job

Like most all white girls of my generation, I enjoy taking photos. Because of this I sometimes like to swap my endearingly-nerdy-trucker-hat persona for my oohlala-pretentious-artiste-beret persona... metaphorically speaking, of course (I don't own, nor would I ever own, a trucker hat. Blech).

I can't draw, as I have very clearly demonstrated,  so my artistic expression tends more towards the photography vein... mostly out of necessity.

I am not that great, guys.  I am the Tiny Tim of photographers, and Photoshop is my crutch (I think in this metaphor my inability to understand aperture is my tiny withered foot).  But, hey, it's fun and gets my creative mojo going.

Most of these are pretty old.  I haven't really used my camera in over a year (most expensive paperweight ever)... probably because while I was laid off last year I shut off my internet, and, you guys, what is the point of taking photos if you can't force everyone on the internet machine to look at them? I mean, really?

Basically, I'm sharing these in order to somehow trick myself into being motivated to take more.  Why I need to be tricked into doing something I enjoy I do not know or understand... such are the mysteries of me, I guess.

First, my pug Henry (the best dog model ever):

 

Some photos from a trip to Savannah, GA:

   

 

 

And some random bits and bats (aka If You Take A Picture of Something (Anything) Really Close Up, It's Totes Art, You Guys):

 

Maybe I should break out the old DSLR and do one of those 30 Photos, 30 days challenge thingamajigs? That might really cut into my sitting on my ass watching re-runs of Criminal Minds time, though.  Dilemmas.

My Mom Taught Me How To Use the Scanner, Now You All Have To Suffer

I scanned a bunch of photos of myself so I could make strangers on the internet look at them. YOU'RE WELCOME.

For most of my childhood my dad had me convinced that I was born with a tail, and that the Doctor delivering me thought I was a monkey.  Also my hair stood straight up for a week after I was born.  I imagine it looked something like this:

Image from Google.

I'm not sure what I looked like because my dad wouldn't let my mom buy any of the newborn photos the hospital takes because he thinks newborn babies look "weird".  So I'm guessing this might be the source of at least SOME of my insecurities.

Despite what these two stories might indicate, my dad is awesome. For realsies.

Here's a souvenir photo of the fam at Silver Dollar City.

I question the historical accuracy of the costumes in this photo...I mean, my dad is a Civil War soldier, my brother looks like a pilgrim, I look like Laura Ingalls Wilder's more darling baby sister, and, apparently, they didn't even bother to find my mother a dress that fit properly.  But we still killed this photo. Look at those faces!  We look miserable... just like every person in every antique photograph you have ever seen! We are character actors through and through.

I developed a love of animals early.

My grandma's poodle, Killer, was stage left humming the chorus to 'Food, Glorious Food'.

I soon entered my awkward years... which continue to this day.  Here's a teaser:

This image is the property of my former neighbor Lorissa... I stole it from her Facebook.  I couldn't resist.

Yep, that's me pretty much owning a sweet New Kids On the Block t-shirt at my neighbor Lorissa's birthday party.

I am humbled right now by my childhood awesomeness.



Scanner Apocalypse Part II: The Teenage Years... Coming Soon!