"I Do"

In the spirit of my upcoming nuptials, I thought I'd write about all things wedding related today. (No, there will not be a wedding page with pictures of my bouquet and garter). (Also, there is no garter--that tradition seems strange and creepy to me). (Also, WTF is a garter, anyway?)

As you may know, David and I are getting married this Saturday, August 11 in Crested Butte, Colorado. We decided to include only immediate family members to keep it small, easy, and intimate, and we're even planning a mountain bike ride on Saturday morning before I get whisked away to get waxed, shaped, and styled.

By waxed, I mean that my mother is going to disappointedly ask me why I don't wax my eyebrows or moustache anymore--even for a special occasion like my wedding.

By shaped, I mean I've purchased and will most definitely be wearing a sexy sexy undergarment a la Bridget Jones.

http://forladiesbyladies.com/index.php/2009/12/30/5-guy-trends-that-need-to-go/

By styled, I mean that I am going to have my hair "done," though as of now I have no plan for it, other than to tell the stylist to "do whatever." (I've done this once before for a regular haircut--with poor results).

Because we are leaving for Crested Butte tomorrow (Thursday), we've been running around doing lots of last minute errands to get ready.

Yesterday we picked out David's tie and shirt (nothing like leaving it for the last minute!) and we also picked up his wedding band, which we ordered about a week and a half ago from a jeweler in town. 

Here is my first attempt to photograph our wedding bands:

There are still workers here at our house, and the loud tools they use makes Haruki a bit scared and clingy.

Dog free:

David's band is sterling silver that has been oxidized to look like the color of gun metal. My band is a tiny white gold band with mini diamonds around it. And yes, that little red thing beside my ring is a small rose bud that David once gave me. I know--blech.

David was originally very much against wearing a wedding band, largely because he thinks they look girly but also because he thought it would feel uncomfortable. However, we were able to come to a compromise, since I agreed that I would change my name to his (Barnett) if he wore a wedding ring. So there you have it: a perfect example of how marriage makes people compromise until they are boring replicas of all other married people. 

*Do you wear a wedding band and/or did you change your name when you married? I thought my Dad would be proud of me when I first said I was keeping my name, but he actually said he thought it was "weird." Go figure.

Pancake Dinaaaaaaaaah

Last night David and I didn't get home from Haruki's dog-training class until almost seven. I was all about having cereal for dinner, but instead David offered to make me pancakes!! (Any time that I sound like a whiny baby, please comment and tell me to shut it.)

It's kind of fitting, actually, since David did the same thing on one of our first dates at his house. I was still terrified of pancakes at that point, and was made even more nervous because it was nearly midnight and I'd already eaten dinner several hours earlier. But, miraculously, I ate 'em, and just like last night I thought about how nice it is to have someone make you pancakes! (Even if they aren't calorie-free.)

We went with blueberry pancakes last night, which was doubly fun because the little berries would burst and pop juice all over when I cut into them. (That makes it sound like blueberry torture, doesn't it? Muwahahahahaha!)

I had mine with peanut butter and Nuttzo butter, while David had his with peanut butter and maple syrup.

Am I alone in not liking maple syrup on pancakes? I mean, isn't it just too sweet? Pancakes are so much better with just a thick coating of nut butter without adding in a sugar syrup. Don't get me wrong, maple syrup is great--it makes baked goods, especially, taste fantastic. But let's face it: a pancake is flat muffin. You wouldn't pour maple syrup on a muffin, would you? (Actually, that reminds me of my grandmother Madeleine, who used to make mashed potatoes [filled with butter] and then put a big pat of butter right on top.)

We had this as our view as we sat, ate, and thought about how lucky we are to live in the mountains:

Like I said, if I get whiny, tell me to f-off.

*What's your favorite part of your house? What kinds of sick things do you do to defenseless fruit? (Don't get me started on the number of times David has molested an unsuspecting eggplant.)

ED Reflections, no. 6

Last time I left off talking about my first foray into bulimia. I don't want to go into too many details here, in the interest of protecting those who might be easily triggered, but I do want to discuss one major component of my early binging history.

As I mentioned in my last post in this series, I started throwing up because I wanted to look good in my prom dress. My first episode of purging was preceded by many, many trips to the mall with my mother looking for prom dresses, each of which often ended with me feeling an incredible amount of stress as I nervously tried on dress after dress in the dressing room and/or me crying in the car on the way home or once we got home and I could be alone. I was miserable. Most of all, I was angry. Angry that I didn't look great in a lot of the dresses, angry that my Mom seemed to suggest all the ugly "fat girl" dresses for me, and angry with myself for not being better, for not being perfect.

The most aspect about my first episode of purging is that I really thought it over beforehand. I knew that there were people who ate and then made themselves throw up, but to me that seemed like a way too serious mental disease for someone like me, i.e. someone so normal and outwardly put together. I never thought that I'd become addicted to purging, and instead I had this sick desire to really try to make myself bulimic, I think because a part of me realized that if I were really, I mean, obviously sick then I wouldn't have to be alone with all my self hate. That is, if I could just get hooked on this purging thing and "become" a person with a "real" problem then I wouldn't have to keep suffering by myself.

What's implicit in this line of thinking is pretty common in ED patients, namely, the sense that I wasn't "sick enough" to warrant help with what I was feeling. It's a hard thing to feel an immense disparity between how you feel and how others perceive you, and in me that caused a lot of anger, desperation, and ultimately, a desire to make myself as physically sick as I felt emotionally.

*In what ways/situations have you ever felt a disparity between how you feel and how others perceive you?

And, just for fun, a picture of some pups at the Humane Society last week:

Despite the fact that the glass door is obscured by scratch marks and slobber, these two matchy-matchy dogs are cute.

Sunday Surprise!

This Sunday post is my penance for not posting last Monday. Lucky for youz, my Saturday consisted of more than just cleaning, reading, eating, and watching TV.

Yesterday was my ... bachelorette party! Actually, I should clarify that to say, "Yesterday was my pseudo-bachelorette party!" YAY!

That means that it was not the penis-driven, alcohol soaked party that most brides tend to get. In case you hadn't noticed, I become awkward around anything that is traditionally feminine or girly, including bridal/baby showers, bachelorette parties, and saying the word "panties."

So instead, David and I went to have dinner and drinks with my brothers (Chris and Brian) and their wives (Sarah and Jennifer). We headed down to my old non-stomping grounds, the Arvada Beer Company. As I mentioned to them last night, a trip to my real stomping grounds wasn't possible because the Arvada Library closes at five on Saturdays:-)

The Arvada Beer Company is a newish microbrewery in the center of Olde Town Arvada (where I'm from), and while they don't actually serve anything but beer there, they do let you order in food from a number of nearby establishments.

David and I had some pizza from Udi's Bakery to go along with our extensive beer sampler. I had the squash/goat cheese/arugula pizza, and he had a disgusting mushroom crap pie. Sometimes I think he orders stuff with mushrooms in it because he knows that I will never ask to taste it if it is covered in slimy squishy mushrooms.

My pizza was great--the arugula and the roasted squash were a great compliment to the goat cheese, which for some reason seems healthier that a thick coating of mozzarella cheese. Thoughts?

A sliver of the beers we tried:

That's my brother Chris on the left and my SIL Sarah's breasts on the right. 

Chris and Sarah have been married seven happy years now:

Seven years ... with little to no physical violence.

After drinking too much beer, Chris decided that we should walk across the street to a bar with some real hard alcohol character.

While I did resist all entreaties to do shots in celebration of our upcoming wedding, I did drink a bit too much beer (about three total), which means that today I'm a little headachy:-)

But it sure was nice to catch up with my brothers and my favorite SILs.

Sarah, Chris, and Brian.
Sorry, Jen. I wanted to show a picture of you too, but the only pics I got of you seem to be of your breasts?!

Can't wait for some post-wedding drunken dancing next Saturday!

Blueberry 'Splosion

Sometimes I think my dog's eyelashes are too short. But then I think, "Shut the f*&$ up, Nikki. Do some work for a change."

Do you talk to yourself like this? Or do you all speak sweet nothings and words of encouragement in your head?

Schhooooooo, anyhow, after that cry-baby post about how I don't cook dinner anymore, yesterday David and I made dinner for our friends Adam and Rebecca. Rebecca will be staying with Haruki and her defective eyelashes next week while we're getting married in Crested Butte. Thus, their meeting was an important one. Luckily, it went well, largely because Rebecca was nice enough to let Haruki lick her nose--a very important method that Haruki uses to test new people.

For dinner, we had David's Spicy Seitan Burritos:

The best part of dinner, however, was that we were able to eat outside on our deck since our deck furniture was delivered yesterday! Who isn't relaxed and happy when eating a burrito and drinking a beer outside? (Your mom.) (Shrug.)*

After it cooled down a bit and we finished dinner, we went inside to have dessert, which I had made that afternoon. It was the same Almond/Banana Cake that I've made before, although this time I decided to spruce it up with a boatload of fresh blueberries that I tossed into the batter. The result was even better than the original version of the recipe!

Sometimes I feel sorry for our dinner guests because we always serve some whole-wheat, lightly-sweetened loaf of crap for dessert instead of Ben and Jerry's or a huge f'in chocolate cake. Sorry, peeps.

After dinner, we went over some logistics with Rebecca about dogsitting for Haruki, at which point David demonstrated how he outfits himself to take her on her night walks.

While there are mountain lions and bears and foxes where we live, we all decided that this might be a little bit of overkill:

Yah. That's the brightest headlamp that Black Diamond makes, along with a hot pink (and pint-sized) baseball bat and a canister of bear spray. On the off-chance that this actually tempts wildlife to attack David and/or Haruki, I'm hoping that Haruki has the good sense to run away quickly when David starts swinging at things wildly and shooting that bear spray at everything. Sigh.

Happy Friday, peeps!

*(Shrug.) = geez I got nothing funny today. (This little notation will be a common feature on NCK.)

Dinner and Dad

So I have a confession to make: I've become extremely lazy about cooking dinner. I mean, cereal/peanut butter toast lazy--I'm not so lazy that I'd starve!

When I was struggling with my ED I ate pretty much the same thing every night for dinner--and it always came frozen with 250 calories or less. In the last three years, however, I've branched out and actually started cooking some of the meals and foods I'd oogle on the Food Network, magazine, etc. Especially when I first moved in with David and he started paying for a lot of the groceries; I was super excited to grocery shop without being so stressed about money and would plan out and cook our meals at least three or four nights a week.

However, that has all come to an end. Even though we are in our new house with a beautiful new kitchen:

When I first walked to the kitchen to take this photo, I somehow ended up back at the table with no picture and a bunch of WF veggie chips in my hand...oops.

I feel almost no desire to cook. Do you go through phases where you really do or really don't want to cook?

The primary reason I bring this up is that last night I discovered something to help me with my little problem:

That might look like vomit, but it actually tasted really good! (For someone who isn't used to hot food). It's a kind of split pea soup, and I "made" it from the Split Pea Soup mix in the bulk bins at Whole Foods.

With chunks of almond cheese:

And followed by a peach, an apple, and copious amounts of Nuttzo Butter. (Has anyone else tried this?! It's really yummy but it's so expensive that I don't think we can pay our mortgage and feed my budding craving for it.)

In other non-essential news, me, my Dad and my sister in law Sarah went on a mountain bike ride together today. Despite some teeth chattering on the way down, it was fantastic! I can't believe I was so reluctant to get in to mountain biking; it's a completely different sport from road cycling--which I have a lot of experience with--but so much more exhilarating and satisfying in its own way.

This is prolly my second-to-last ride as a single woman...!!

*Does your Mom or Dad do any cool activities with you?

August Challenge!

So, bloggers out there: how do you remember to photograph what you eat (if you do include such photos on your blog)?

The reason I ask is that I've forgotten to take pictures of what I eat every.freaking.day for the last week or so. On our way to dinner at Aji last weekend, David and I both vowed to remember to take pictures of the food. And yet, I got nothin' to show for dinner there. Likewise, all I have to show you of my eats today is this:

This plate is ugly and looks dirty. Don't judge: all of our dishware is courtesy of the insurance company (i.e. because our house burned down, remember?) and we live in the mountains and have hard water that leaves spots on everything.

This is a recently-deceased muffin top. (I've decided that I'm going to be the only bride in the history of marriage who actually gains weight for her wedding day.)

Anyway, back to my point: this isn't even a picture of the actual muffin top, and not only that, but I have eaten more than said muffin top today. Yet I can't even produce pictures of empty containers to prove it. Sigh.

Maybe I should start an August challenge that involves taking pictures of my food. Bloggers seem to like having challenges and getting other bloggers to participate and follow along, so why not me and why not make the challenge one that you should be doing already?

I call it:

August Shape-Up: 

Stop Being a Shitty Blogger and Photograph Your Tofu and Kale Chips, Bitch*

Who's in? It will be great--instead of sending in pics of yourself looking really sweaty after a workout challenge, you guys can send in pics--ok, drawings--of things you've eaten. 

P.S. On occasion, I really enjoy swearing. Obviously. What's the protocol on swearing and blogs? Is it generally discouraged because it turns some readers off?

*This is what me and my old therapist called "Negative Self Talk." Apparently this is why I sometimes eat a whole bar of chocolate in one sitting.