You are KNOT Helpful

Oh the wonderful world of weddings.

Before I was engaged my friends and I [see: only Taryn] would scour and sigh with frustration each time a section was blocked until we signed up. Obviously we couldn’t sign up because neither of us were engaged, and we can only handle creepy to a point.

The day after I got engaged I hopped on a computer and FINALLY signed up for I was so excited to have full access to all the information I’d been previously blocked from as well as belong to my new community of knotties! [Yup. That’s what they call themselves.]

I’m not really sure who I was trying to kid here, but I pretty much hate all brides-to-be. One would think that after countless episodes of Say Yes to the Dress and Four Weddings I would have some sort of idea that almost every aspect of the bridal community makes me want to rip my hair out. But no, I still needed this obviousness to slap me in the face.

I began to search the boards for answers to all of my important questions [where are you buying invites, how many items are you registering for, what are the Corinthians, etc] when it began to really sink in that these women were awful. They are rude to each other, and apparently they all consider themselves experts on ettiquette and manors…as they misspell their signatures with obnoxious things like ~*~*~sooo ecited sOoN tO bE mRs. JoHnSoN~*~*~*.

This morning I went to the post office to weigh a completed wedding invitation to see if I made the cut and could slap a 44cent stamp on those hos. A postman sullenly barked “64 cents” to my tear-strewn face, and I dramatically stumbled out of the post office. Where does one even buy 64 cent stamps?! I logged on to the USPS website and found some heinous stamps I could purchase, but if I am going to spend almost a dollar [yes, 64 cents is almost a dollar] on a stamp I want it to be GORGEOUS.  In my despair, I decided to give the awful knotland one more chance to actually assist me in one teeny tiny way. I went to the wedding month boards and posted a question on August 2011 that went a little something like this:

“Hey Ladies! [I feign niceness to make up for everyone being so blatantly awful]
I know postage is changing over to the higher price tomorrow…ugh! I went to the post office today to weigh my invites, and unfortunately I’m going to need 64 cent stamps…It’s going to cost a fortune. Is anyone else experiencing bulky invites? Where are you buying your stamps?”

Annnd this is the response I got:

“im buying my postage at my post ofce lol. im marrying a postal worker so ive known about the upage for awhile now”


#1. Can you read?

#2. Yes. Obviously you can buy stamps at a post office. I WAS JUST THERE. Again, can you read?

#3. THANK YOU for telling me how long you have known about the postage price rising, that really helps all of the people who need to send out invitations after TOMORROW.

#4. Upage? Not a word. Can you read? is awful. In the off chance that anyone reading this blog is also getting married or is obsessed with weddings, let me help you out. MONTHS of research have showed me the helpful websites:

The Broke-Ass Bride – a great name, a great sense of humor, and a great resource.

Martha Stewart Weddings – I love Martha. Who doesn’t. She lays down the law on how to getting all things wedding done.

The Budget Savvy Bride – another money saver full of great tips and a fun read.

Have a ball.


Ps. Oh you want to know how much it’s going to cost to mail out invitations??!

85 invites x$0.64+85 rsvp cards x $0.44 = $91.80.  Yup. Almost a hundred dollars.


Is This Call Being Recorded?

The other day at work I was minding my own business perusing the internet when suddenly all hell broke lose and our internet stopped working. Rationally, we all started flipping out.  Out of nowhere my boss had an incurable stomach ache and my coworker was on the verge of going home in lieu of a nervous break down.

Like the only sane person at my place of work, I picked up the phone and called Comcast. The conversation went the following way:

“Hello thank you for calling Comcast, my name is Tarek how may I help you today?”

“Hi. The internet and phones at my business are acting up.”

“Well Ma’am I would be happy to look into that for you. May I have your name?”

“Yes, it’s Avalon.”


“Close, but, no. Avalon. A-v-a-l-o-n”.

“Wow! That’s a really great name! You’re so lucky!”

“Yea I guess. It could have been worse I suppose”.

“Hold on one minute while I put that on my names list”.





Hi. I Like to Cry.

I’ve mentioned this on the blog before, but I seriously have a crying problem. If you met me you would never think, ‘oh wow, I think that girl cries like 8 times a day’. I am sarcastic and often walk around with a stone cold heart. My real life hardly ever makes me cry. In fights I don’t cry, I yell. At work I don’t cry, I get even. With my friends I don’t cry, because I have the best friends ever and they would never do that to me.

Television. Television makes me cry.

1. I guess it’s always good to start with the lamest one in hopes that by the time you have finished the list you will have forgotten how ridiculous I am. The first time I saw this COFFEE commercial I cried. I seriously need to get it together. I can watch it now without crying, but I was a sucker for the awful jingle and preposterous acting/plot line the first time.


2. We all know how much I love Casey Abrams on American Idol. Too much. I think he is INCREDIBLY talented and a little bit adorable all rolled up into one. A few weeks ago he received the least amount of votes and was going to end up going home, but the judges used their ONLY season save to save him from this unfair fate. Crying ensued. By me. And a little by Casey.


3. I also cry at adorableness. I stumbled upon this video on someone’s blog/facebook/whatever and watched it laughing with tears streaming down my face like the craziest person on the face of the planet.


4. I found this website and sometimes when I feel like I need to fit in one more cry for the day I visit it. Sometimes I get the feeling the little anecdotes are fake or made up, but I don’t really care. I don’t discriminate when it comes to my tears.


5. The other day I decided to watch the first episode of the new show Mobbed. I basically started crying immediate just because I could feel what was coming. In this show a guy loves his jealous girlfriend so much that he decides to plan [with the help of Howie Mendel] an elaborate proposal. The whole event starts with her being jealous of some skanky actress playing a lost connection of her boyfriend, and ends with tears, singing, and more tears. Most of the tears were from me. WHAT IS MY PROBLEM.

Happy crying!



#1. Follow us on twitter please. Sometimes we are entertaining, I promise.

#2. Read THIS article and take some notes on how to be a good friend.

#3. Head over to your local Starbucks and pick up one of these babies, you can thank me later.

#4. Made this cake last night for my Dad’s BDay, and it was delightful. Try it out, Easter maybe?

#5. This is my new favorite blog. She has pictures of cute stuff and food…what more could you ask for?


When You Live in New England….

Hello friends!

As I have mentioned many a time I live in the bitter cold that is New England. I realize that I have nothing on Michigan or say, Antarctica, but I still feel the need to complain and let you how I feel. This awful weather provided me with a mountain of snow around two stories tall right outside my huge office window. Every day this winter I stared out the window into the snowy white abyss, wondering if the days of sunshine would ever come.

Finally, oh finally, it is Spring! Spring has sprung, and I am rolling around on the flourishing ground. Not really, but I am running around snapping pictures of small blades of new grass and barely-there crocuses.  I’ve taken my flats out from storage and started wearing lighter jackets in an attempt to trick my brain and the universe into feeling a little bit warmer.

Little did I know when I woke up this morning and checked the weather, that all my preparation was in vain.




You Look SO Familiar…

In this day and age it is way too easy to be the world’s creepiest human being.

I may not be the creepiest, but I am definitely a contender.


Freshman year of college [was it freshman year?] Taryn was totally into this guy who was a mystery to me. I never saw him and didn’t know who he was, basically I thought he was Taryn’s imaginary friend. Just kidding…[am I?]. Regardless, he ended up leaving the school after I did [convenient for her story] and then transferred to the school I go to [this was the point where I knew she wasn’t lying].

I facebooked him when he transferred and realized I didn’t know him, but was relieved he was a real person and my bffl wasn’t bat shit crazy.

Skip ahead THREE YEARS to me sitting here in my office minding my own business. A young gentleman walked in, I looked up and who is? Mr. Phantom Man! I start panicking because I feel SO CREEPY for knowing who he is, I start frantically writing scribbles in my calendar book. He starts talking to me, and I start ignoring him and gchatting Taryn telling her that I thought Mr. Guy-I-Thought-You-Made-Up was standing in front of me. Yea, I’m great at customer service. Finally I help him and he decides to get his computer fixed.

As I am literally typing his name into the computer, I ask him what his name is for show. SERIOUSLY, how creepy am I. I am now blushing and laughing at myself while this poor kid is telling me he has water damage to the power supply in his Mac.

Eventually I decide to be even more creepy and just cut my losses.

Me: “You look super familiar” [LIES ALL LIES]

Him: “Oh Yeah?”

Me: “Yeah did you go to UT?” [i am so creepy. so creepy. so creepy]

Him “Oh Yeah for a year, then I transferred here!” [Duh, I know. I know everything about you. Kidding.]

Me: “HAHA A OMG SO WEIRD ME TOO” [I need help]

I take his computer, he leaves.

Apparently blondes are his type because he was not excited enough that cute computer girl was pretending to recognize him.

Last minute I decided not to throw Taryn under the bus by saying “Oh I recognize your name because my bffl made me stalk you on facebook” and in turn made myself look like the creepiest, weirdest, computer nerd on the face of the planet.

That’s what friends are for.


I believe that children are our future. Teach them well and let them lead the way

Why can’t we get pre-Bobby Brown Whitney back? I miss her.

Regardless of the awesomeness that was (is?) Whitney Houston, this post is about children. In particular, my sister.

Now circa 1990’s, Kasey was definitely the more creative one of the family. While we both sang, swam, did gymnastics, she also drew beautiful pictures, played the piano, painted things, wrote poems and witty stories. My extra hobby was probably sitting in a corner and picking my nose (joking?). Well Circa 2000’s nothing has really changed. I am still active and play sports (Yes, kickball is a sport. Just look at that headband. And that’s a pic post kickball domination game. Team name? 99 Problems but a Pitch Ain’t One. You know you love it) and Kasey is still the more hippie/artsy oriented one (No, those aren’t her sandals and socks. She’s artsy, not a tourist). Though we obviously are still the same, we have to take some credit to evolving. I mean I have tweaked the artistic abilities, ie. stick figures CAN be considered art, and one could say that Kasey’s nose has never been more boogerless (still joking?).

But one thing will forever be evolveless (word? just made it one, if not). That being the witty stories/letters/writing of my dear sister. All of this was confirmed a couple weeks ago when our friend since kindgeraten Sarah (aka Kasey’s biffle, and different than Avalon’s friend Sarah) came over to our house with a GEM of an artifact from our youth. I knew my life would never be the same when she breaks out a letter written on none other than Kirsten (as in, Kirsten the AMERICAN GIRL) stationary.




I then open up the letter and note that this was dated June 4, 1998, making Kasey a ripe age of 8 and 11/12 months (exact ages were a big deal for us). I then go on to read the letter, written in typical little kid fashion of adorable meets sloppy. The letter went a little bit (see: exactly) like this:

Dear Sarah,

I really miss you. I hope I see you soon. Guess what! You MIGHT get to sleep over in the summer around my b-day! If you do we might get to do a movie! I wrote the script (of course.) Your sister can come too (Taryn invited her.) Well, I’ll send you a copy of the script. I’m going to be a alien. You can be a alien too. Taryn is going to be a plain girl. Emily can be one too. My name is Oido in the script. Your name is Onadon. Taryn’s is Ruby. Emily’s is Garnet. My dad is in it too. His name is Dr. Silver. Well gotta go. I’ll write some more.

Your friend,


P.S. My b-day is July 27th

P.S.S. Call me my number is 960-0138

First thoughts:

1. Kasey’s grammar has grown significantly (“a alien”=not grammatically correct. It’s okay, Kase. Those were tough)

2. OF COURSE she wrote the script, DUH Sarah. Why get Spielberg when you have Kasey? Also, who saw it going in that direction? I didn’t. “Might get to do a movie” screams go watch one. But 8 year old Kasey said, NAY. NAY to those petty theaters. The art’s demand actors and actresses and scripts made of their own! (I said this in my best old fashion hollywood voice, British and slightly pretentious. Try it, it’s fun)

3. Why am I a plain girl? Did she really not think my acting abilities could handle extra terrestrial life?

4. Oido and Onadon. There’s just no words to explain how happy I was to read alien names my sister made up. NEVER LIVING IT DOWN.

5. My dad will no longer be referred to as dad or daddio, but as Dr. Silver.  I also now picture my dad, I mean Dr. Silver, to look like this. And he is bald, so it works.

It took me about 10 minutes to get through the whole letter. Needless to say, my makeup had come off in the process. Tears of pure joy and happiness streamed down. Then, as the topping on my sundae of happiness, I find another folded up piece of paper in the envelope. What was it you ask? It was only a drawing, done by Kasey, thanks to the swirl feature found in Paint on the computer. 

O. M. G.

Now if my makeup wasn’t completely gone already, there was definitely no hope for the remaining bits of mascara. I was going to attach said picture, for comedic purposes, but alas I forgot my camera at home. Please, someone remind me later. It’s so amazingly great, I want everyone to laugh/cry.

So, to end in the words of a great artist turned alien writer “Well gotta go. I’ll write some more”.


P.S.S. (also a hard one to remember, 8 year old Kasey) We are in search for the said alien script. I’ll keep y’all posted. I am hoping drawings are attached, that look something like this… Just a thought, Oido.

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