Self-Made Mani

Oh, dear. The nail situation has gotten out of control. I’m getting gel manicures every three weeks and I love that they make my nails grow and of course that they look so good. But this girl is constantly getting sick of her color choices and starting to itch for a new hue a mere week in, which is a waste of time, money and a perfectly good mani. So, this week I’m going back to my roots and doing it myself. I’ll be back on the gel train soon I’m sure, but it’s good to give the nails (and the wallet!) a few weeks to breathe, right?

A great choice for the newly engaged, this subtle bubblegum pink, Fruit Machine, from butter London is sure to please. $15, butterlondon.com

I was flipping through a bridal mag the other day and came across the suggestion of picking an elegant and girly color (like pale bubble gum pink) for the first manicure of your engagement. It’s a great way to show off your ring while keeping nails fun and fresh despite the season. I definitely did this in the beginning with lavenders, whites and silvers, but there are so many fun colors I want to try and I don’t think my ring minds a change every now and then.

New Fave: Penny Talk.

Josh is majorly into red nails, so I might go for a bold cherry this week. Then again, we’re still coming off the Christmas season and I don’t want to look like I have a Beauty Hangover. I recently picked up Essie’s new Penny Talk, a bold and pretty copper that works with all outfits and creates a subtle, neutral sheen. I’m pretty curious how Butler Please is going to look on the nails–maybe best to wait till summer, but if they have it at my local drugstore, I might pick it up.

Next Up: Butler Please.

The best thing about experimenting with all the new Essie’s on the market? At $8 a pop, they’re less than a third the cost of one manicure–for an entire bottle. The worst thing? The fact that I don’t just acquire Essie. I’m a Chanel-Butter-OPI-Estee-and-beyond girl with a cabinet full and colors and only ten nails to paint. Sigh. Stay tuned! And let me know what your favorite hue is for showing off that sparkler!

Banded By Drama

Oh, silly Jenny, you thought you were on top of your game! You gloated that your dress, the bridesmaids’ dresses, the venue, cake and flowers were lined up! You sent out your save-the-dates with cute little custom stamps featuring yourself and your betrothed! You sketched the wedding invites and even booked a date for your shower, which is not something you are supposed to do. You confirmed your officiant and even dreamed up a lovely wreath for your flower girl’s hair! You checked-check-checked right down your list and then… you got the email.

We had snagged our band at Josh’s company Christmas party. A local cover band that does everything from hip hop to pop to the occasional oldie-but-goodie, and does it all really well, we were impressed. Josh hopped up on stage and confirmed them that night. We emailed back and forth, got the PayPal info last week, and set about putting the $$ aside for the deposit.

And then Thursday night my little bridal world shattered. I came home from work and played with my pup for a while. Then I went into the bedroom to play with kittie. I took a few business calls and a few more sips of wine, massaged my feet, and counted down the minutes till Josh would call from downstairs to pick me up for dinner with my soon-to-be mommy-in-law (visiting) in tow.

My phone buzzed. It was a text from Josh, asking me to call him. I love this guy, and I love talking to him, but anytime he asks me to call him, it’s always bad news.

“Hi. What’s going on?”
“Um. Did you see the email?”
“No. What email?”
“It’s from the band…”

And there it was. Apparently, we had miscommunicated about the due date for the deposit and some other bitchy bride-to-be had stolen my amazing band right out from under my freshly powdered nose. A generally sweet person who tries her very best to treat everyone with kindness and respect, I was shocked, saddened and thoroughly pissed. I set about to write my first-ever Bridezilla-esque email, complete with that dreaded phrase, “I’m not mad, just very disappointed.”

It turns out, I found, that when you state your thought process cohesively and respectfully, make it clear that you are hurt and not angry (even if you are really FREAKING angry!), you might just get your way. Twenty-four hours later the band decided to honor our verbal agreement and refer the other bride to their sister band, pending an immediate deposit. Deposit was made and we are back in the chips.

Even though I cried (a lot) on the night of the email, in retrospect I realize this was only a mere blip. As my lash girl told me months ago, there will be things that happen when you’re planning a wedding and you just have to keep moving past them. This one worked out the way we wanted it to, but even if it hadn’t, I’m sure a solution would have surfaced.

Fellow brides, know this: everything can be solved with a few deep breaths, a stern yet sensitive email, and a fiance who always has your back.

Parenting, Pre-Wedding

I will preface this one by affirming that yes, Josh and I already had a child together in the form of our adorable four-year-old cat Dolce. Better known in our home as “The D,” this delicious little monster is the joy of our lives and he follows us around, licks our faces, purrs like crazy when he sees us, the works. He is pure heaven and incredibly easy to take care of. So, even though we call him “The Son,” he’s much more like a cool little buddy that hangs out a lot than an actual child who requires care.

Enter Harry.

Josh and I have been wanting a puppy for a long time, but we thought it best to wait until after the wedding. Vet bills, NYC travel, the cat’s ability to adjust, both of us working more than full-time hours… it just seemed like too much. But on a sunny Sunday after a delicious brunch and a stop at his office, we were torn. Should we go to West Elm and spend our engagement gift cards? Should we head to Target and pick up the hangers I need to complete my closet organization project (more on that later!)? No, friends, my fiance decided we were headed to Dallas Animal Services, also known as the “pound,” to “visit” the puppies. We’d heard so much good stuff about the facility and he wanted to just check out.

Dun. Dun.

“We’re not actually getting a puppy, we’re just looking,” he scolded as my face filled with glee.

“I know,” I retorted, teenage-style, exasperated but secretly eager. “We have the wedding to think about! And The D. We haven’t even asked him if he wants a sibling!”

Three hours later I was holed up in a visitation room with a two-month old lab mix licking off my Christian Dior lipgloss while Josh stood at reception filling out our adoption papers. And now, four days after that, a bundle of blond-and-black fuzzy deliciousness has taken over our home and our hearts.

We are literally living in a house divided. Cats and puppies can’t just be thrown in together so we have Dolce enclosed in the bedroom/walk-in closet/bathroom section of the home with myriad toys, a cat castle, and a 24-hour running stream of MTV (his favorite) to keep him happy. Harry hangs in the open living room/kitchen area where he alternates between wrestling a plush lion or chewing on his parents’ fingers before falling asleep at random intervals. The two have nightly visitations during which no one has gotten aggressive yet. In fact, there was a nose-to-nose moment so delightful that I am hoping we can start letting them roam free in a few weeks.

For now, we are exhausted from a night of crate-crying and doing our best to give everyone lots of love (Mom has 30 min with one while Dad has 30 min with the other. Rotate. Repeat). At four in the morning one of us gives up and heads out to the kitchen, frees the little one from his cage and brings him onto the couch for a snuggle to let everyone get some relief from the poor baby’s bad dreams.

This crazed adventure has so far been filled with cuddly moments, great photo opps, a new appreciation for our amazingly tolerant cat, and hey, even a few exhausted tears. But if this is a preview to what it will be like to parent a human child with my betrothed down the line, my future is looking pretty damn sweet.

Floral Dreams

For such a positive person, I tend to have pretty dismal nightmares. I don’t know if it’s my mind’s way of working through anxieties so I can leave them at home each morning when I face the world, or a plain old reaction to the high volume of SVU and other crime shows I don’t need to be, but am constantly, watching. Either way, when I actually have a good dream, it’s remarkable. I tend to jot them down. This one was wedding-related, so I thought I’d share.

I’ve been dreaming of the wedding on and off since Josh popped the question. Usually, they are panicked dreams in which it’s the morning of and a) my groom is missing, b) my dress doesn’t fit, c) there is a venue catastrophe or d) all of the above, plus worse. But last night I have a vivid recollection of a massive bouquet of white flowers that swirled through the air and picked up other blooms along its floating route. Hmm.

Was it the NyQuil?

Not sure, but I can tell you this: it was gorgeous. The bright white flowers at the center were amplified by the creams, blushes and pale blues that joined the ride. Luckily, my florist is already dreaming up something similar for the big day. Here are some photos of similar styles I’d like to incorporate. Brides to be: do you have a floral dream (or just a scheme) that you’re excited about? My rule of thumb: keep it as simple as you possibly can.

All photos borrowed from StyleMePretty, where I tend to live these days. I should start paying them rent!

Engagement Photos: We’re Doomed!

Oh, faithful readers, I had hoped that the first post of the new year would be filled to the brim with exciting details about our romantic wintry photo shoot in Central Park and along Fifth Avenue. I was certain that the holiday lights and bustling crowd would make for a magical backdrop to the capturing of our New York love story.

I went to Bloomingdale’s and charged a black raw silk and chiffon inlay Reiss dress I have no business owning. Oh, and I bought the red suede pumps I tried on with it because I couldn’t stand to leave the store without them. I mapped out a route along which we would stroll, holding hands and stopping to smooch in front of the lens. I purchased a beautiful wool coat to the knee with gold buttons so that when I couldn’t take the cold, I could at least look pretty.

And then, the two worst things about winter in New York came crashing down on our plan: 1) weather and 2) illness.

Josh never gets sick. I mean never. I tend to be sort of almost-sick 98% of the time. There’s always some minor thing ailing me, I whine about it a few minutes each morning, and then get on with life. But when I tell you I have only seen my fiance seek one time before this past week, it’s true. And it was so alarming that first time in 2010 that I actually left my offices at the Wall Street Journal without telling my boss, burst out the front door into the 90+ degree balmy heat, and ran all the way across town in heels to his apartment to get to him. I was that worried.

This week wasn’t so dramatic, but it certainly wasn’t pretty either. We’d heard rumors of a stomach bug going around but were adamant we wouldn’t, couldn’t, get sick. At his birthday dinner, he mixed Airborne in our waters and kept a good distance from anyone who claimed to have been even remotely sick, even remotely recently. But on that fateful morning, December 28, 2012, my dearest one woke up with a nasty bout of stomach flu. And by noon, I, too had fallen.

Couple with that the wind-chill factor keeping the temp in the single digits, and you had two un-romantically inclined people on your hands. Luckily, our photographer will be in NY for most spring weekends and we had planned to go in May anyway for my dress fitting and other things. So, ladies and gentleman, we now have a third date lined up for the shoot. Let’s hope this one is the charm!