This Is Where It's Gonna Go Down

Hey friends! I'm sorry for the lack of posts the past few days - I've been out of my mind taking care of last minute wedding details.

I'm finally starting to relax and even easing into holiday mode (i.e. having a glass of wine while I sit here at the keyboard) because I think I am finally done packing, organizing, emailing, and taking care of business, for the most part. I still need to walk uptown and do a bit of last minute shopping but other than that, I'm ready!

My upstairs neighbor, Dara, (who, by the way, was married at the Basking Ridge Country Club two weeks ago and looked absolutely stunning) came down to my place earlier to see my dress and help me finish packing. I couldn't have done it without her - seriously, she is the exact voice of reason I needed today:

Dara: "Um, yeah - you're going to take that wadded up tissue paper and walk it over to the trash can and throw it away, along with those ribbons that you think you need to save,"

Ali: "Come on, Dara. Can't I save this pink tissue? I might be able to..."

Dara: "NO".

Ali: "Fine. You know how I am when it comes to bags, boxes, and other hard to discard items; I mean, I can't throw away this box - my wedding shoes came in this box! What am I going to put them in when I get home?"

Dara: "Well, if you're like me, you're going to be dying them black because your heels sank so far into the grass that they are now practically destroyed. So much for my Kate Spade wedding shoes. You're throwing the damn box away. End of discussion."

And she was right - there is no need for me to keep that damn box because knowing me, I won't even come home with the shoes! THANK YOU, Dara, for being my voice of reason this morning. You are a love.

Moving on. So, this is a pic of where I'm getting married. Yep, I'm getting married under this exact arch. Well, that is unless the torrential down pours continue and the 50 degree weather keeps up. Then, I'll be getting married indoors. This girl always has a contingency plan - have you seen the arrival itinerary I made? If not, well, you would be impressed.

My mind only operates in one mode - and that mode is uber precise and ridiculously detailed. It's a curse and a blessing; I know that all of my exhaustive planning won't change the actual day much at all and will have been, some will say, a waste of time, but because I did it and did it my way, at least I will be able to enjoy the day knowing that I conceived ideas, sought out the means and answers to implement those ideas, and delivered the information to all parties involved.

This is it, gang, my last blog from New Jersey as a single woman - the next time I blog it will probably be from Edinburgh (still a single woman) and within the next ten days, I'll be blogging officially as Ms. La Pointe!

So, what's La Pointe of It All? Well, it's this - I'm getting married and I'm doing it the way that Matty and I want to do it. I'm going to miss my JAPS and my other close BFFs who can't make it terribly but I'm looking forward to celebrating with those friends and fam upon our return. And in the end, I don't regret our choices because to my Matty and me, it's all about the marriage, not the wedding.

xx

This is How My Summer Mornings Feel

All though I no longer live somewhere that looks like this pic, this is how my summer mornings feel during those precious moments between waking and getting swallowed by wedding planning.

That window opens each morning at 7 am and is usually closed by 11 but those four hours are the most fantastic ones of my day - and my year. I'm really sad because I only have two more summertime morning windows left here in NJ before I go back to work and am forced to put an end to my early morning routine.

No more waking up and spending the first 15 minutes devoting myself to Pinkerton's antics. No more making Matty lunch and coffee and then walking him to his train. No more morning walks for fitness up to Ogden and down to the waterfront. No more listening to NPR while walking and enjoying the sights of the city. No more stopping at Dames Coffee for a 75 cent mini cranberry scone. No more chit-chatting on the phone with Aym as I turn the corner and head to my front door. No more making myself a coffee, grabbing a yogurt, and sitting down to blog.

Nope, come September 8th, I'll have to get up 75 minutes earlier yet there will never be enough time in my day to do any of the above.

Okay, so I'm more of a glass half empty type of girl when it comes to certain aspects of my life. You probably assumed that from my post the other day when I mentioned how most girls would be over the moon with happiness if they were about to marry.

This has NOTHING to do with getting married and frankly, I'm tired of people telling me to just relax and stop thinking about anything other than that fact. Honestly, isn't that kind of insulting to assume that one aspect of a person's life can cancel out all other factors? As if we are one dimensional beings who lack the capacity for complexity?

Don't worry - I'm not the Debbie Downer you think I am. Yes, I realize that I'm leaving for Scotland on Thursday and therefore get to enjoy 12 mornings of Scottish sunrises, followed by 5 Mallorcan mornings and honestly, I can't freakin' wait - I've been looking forward to marrying Matty since the day we first kissed. Plus, I LOVE Scotland more than I'll ever love the US (sorry, I'm not un-patriotic, just honest - it's just way better in so many ways) and I can't wait to see my friends whom I haven't seen in almost a year. Mallorca is going to be insane and I'm thrilled that I'll be coming home with a kick ass Mediterranean tan!

But in terms of my life here in New Jerey, well, the next two and a half weeks don't count. Why? Because somehow, I've managed to compartmentalize the entire walking holiday, wedding weekend, and honeymoon into a tangential experience that, strangely, does not seem part of real life because it's way too lovely.

Perhaps it's because this is the latest I've ever gone abroad during the summer; maybe that fact has contributed to the surreal atmosphere that has formed around the next two and a half weeks. After all, I would usually be coming home at this point in August, having spent the summer pleasurably walking the British Isles with the girls and alone, relaxing at Alltan with a glass of wine and an episode of How Clean is Your House, and blogging from and shopping in the Kingston Upon Thames market square. It's weird to just be leaving now.

But let's be honest - what's really eating at me is that when I come home from the happiest experience of my life, I'm going to be immediately submerged in what has not always been one of the happiest experiences of my life.

Commuting two hours, round trip, a day on the NJ Turnpike is like waking up to a game of Russian roulette each morning and the thought of it beginning again - the thought of spending the next TEN MONTHS with a gun pointed at my head - is making me a little bit cagey.

So, what's La Pointe of It All? Well, that's what I need to figure out and I think I'm heading in the right direction with my recent decisions. I want every morning of my life to feel like this picture and dammit, I'm gonna make it happen.

The Future

I recently listened to a podcast that made an attempt to determine whether or not intelligence plays a role in happiness; are smart people less happy than not so smart people?

The podcast determined, through the study of scientific data, that there is no correlation between happiness and intelligence. There are many smart, happy people and there are many smart miserable people and the same goes for not so smart people - some are happy, some are not.

Frankly, I do think there is a certain beauty in simplicity - not stupidity, but simplicity. I am not a simple person: I think too much, worry too much, change my mind too often, stress out over decision making all too easily, etc.

There is just so much going on in this world and inside of my head that I always feel that I'm running out of time. Like this morning, for instance - it's already 8:26 am and although I've been up since 7:15, I still haven't walked for fitness, cleaned up the flat, gone to the store for coffee, or taken care of more last minute wedding details; therefore, I am miserable because I already feel like I've wasted the entire day.

I worry about the future constantly because in some ways, I am not happy with the present. Yes, I am immensely happy in my relationships and thrilled to be getting married in two weeks and I realize that for some girls, that would be enough happiness to hold them over for years. A lifetime, even.

But it's not enough for me.

Life is too short to be happy with only one aspect of life, which is why I'm always trying to make the other parts of my life better; I am not satisfied with mediocre. Unless you're talking about soup, this girl ain't having it lukewarm.

Over the course of the past few months, I've spent a lot of time thinking about how I want to live this next stage of my life. Marriage is the best thing that could have happened to me because not only do I get to spend my life with my BFF, I am now tied to a solid anchor that, ironically, affords me a ridiculous amount of flexibility and the freedom to be me, 100%.

This summer, I've made some decisions that surprise even me: in the next two years, I'm going to get my MA in Creative Writing and Literature, I'm going to have a baby, I'm going to stop teaching for a few years to stay at home with my baby, I'm going to publish my novel, and most importantly, I'm going to be happy with 90% of my life (I'm happy with 60% currently).

But I suppose I should concentrate on getting married, to start.

So, what's LaPointeofItAll? Well, this is my life and I am the only one who can make it into the life that I want and dammit, that's exactly what I'm going to do.

FIVEFINGERS SUCCESS!

This is a pic of Abbie and me from last year's walking holiday in Wales. As you can see, we are tossing her walking boots over the side of the cliff after they had given her many sore days of walking. If you look closely, you can see she is wearing my Chaco sandals - what a relief for her feet!

I usually bring two pairs of walking options on my walking holidays because you never know when you are going to need salvation and this year is no exception.

One of the two pairs will definitely be my new Vibram FiveFingers! Yesterday's walk was awesome - I felt as light as a feather although I'm still getting used to the positioning of the baby toe.

I knew going into my walk yesterday that a change in footwear can bring on a change in form so I was interested in discovering what that change would result in. Well, today I can honestly say that my FiveFingers allowed me to work muscles that have not been previously worked out all summer. I'm a tiny bit sore in my calves and in my hip flexor but that soreness is nothing compared to the thrill of knowing that my legs are going to be in even better shape now that there has been a shift in muscle focus.

Because I weened myself off of typical walking/running shoes, I am not suffering as I assume someone might if he or she attempted to make an abrupt change. Word to the wise: DO NOT go out and buy a pair of FiveFingers, strap them on, and then head out for a hard hours' walk or run. If you are currently running or walking in traditional footwear, make sure you follow the instructions and wear your FiveFingers a bit at a time to get used to the difference or you could end up in a world of hurt.

So, what's LaPointeOfItAll? Well, it's that Vibram FiveFingers rock and I will be wearing them as my main footwear while hiking on the Isle of Skye nine days from now! Three cheers for the upcoming 5th annual Girls Walking Holiday! Hmm, or is it the 6th annual...

Five Fingers... er, Five Toes?

Despite what you see above, I have not gone mental; these are not gloves that I shoved on my feet for kicks. No friends, I've gone Five Fingers.

Calm down, Mom - I don't mean that I stole this pair of odd, rubberized footwear. I gave that up in the 7th grade when the tube of Silver City Pink lipstick fell from the opening of my pant leg onto the floor of Ben Franklins (and then I really gave it up when Tacy was caught pilfering an Ozzy Osbourne cassette tape from Ames Department Store the following year).

No, what you see above is a different type of Five Fingers discount and from what I hear the savings afforded by these wet suitish shoes is a savings from the joint stress and foot pain caused by traditional running shoes. By now, some of you may have read Christopher McDougall's non-fiction book Born to Run and are therefore familiar with the barefoot running movement. It's nothing new; it's just getting a lot more press these days and some of that attention has drawn Vibram's Five Fingers shoes into the spotlight.

I stopped at Campmor on my way home from my friend Johnna's house yesterday (it's a shame I didn't have time to stop there on the way to her home, since the store is on North 17 and I passed it on my way, but instead I stopped for three freakin' accidents and was running 45 minutes late, only to show up to the home of a nursing mother without the lunch delivery I had promised. Ugh. Bad friend) for a pair of waterproof pants for this year's walking holiday.

I had been reading a lot about Five Fingers earlier this summer and had watched a lot of online videos of people testing them out, but I hadn't taken the time to seek them out in person. I had tried to order them online, only to end up in a back order queue that I eventually canceled.

After grabbing the waterproofs (for only $16.99, I must add - thank God I fit into children's sized outdoor gear!), I decided to check out the shoe department and voila! There these beauties were, displayed as if they were meant for me. I grabbed one from the display and began a rather frustrating process of getting it on my foot. I've always known I have strange feet and toes (German toes, Aunt Wilma always called them, because the middle ones are longer than the big toe) but I didn't realize just how much my baby toe hugs its neighbor. It was a real bitch to get it to move into its assigned "finger".

After a few moments of struggle, my friendly granola sales kid (who looked exactly how I envision Jesus looked, except this kid was much younger and, well, stoned out of his mind) came over and got me another size. I'm usually a European 38 but had to go up to a 39 due to my freakishly long toes.

Once I had them on, I proceeded to walk around the store for about a half an hour and every Tom, Dick, and some guy named Herman stopped me to ask about them. Herman got very upset when I told him I planned on hiking about 18 miles a day in them in a few weeks time and insisted I purchase a pair of old school hiking boots.

Seriously?

I haven't worn hiking boots since THE NINETIES. I'm not climbing Mount Everest, folks. There's no need in my world for that kind of leather. Over the course of recent years, I've gone from hiking in the Merrell Gore Tex Chameleon Arc, to in the North Face Gore Tex Fury (loved this shoe), to in a pair of Gore Tex running shoes, to in last summer, a pair of Chaco sandals.

This summer's Walk for Fitness campaign happened to coincide with my reading of McDougall's book, so instead of putting on a pair of sneakers before that first walk, I threw on my Chacos and that's what I've walked in every day. I figured since I planned on hiking in them this summer, I would get used to them now; in case any blisters decided to form, I wanted to know about it in advance so I could combat any further formation. I am spending the 4 days before my wedding hiking, after all, and can't afford sore feet on my wedding day.

Well, the Chacos were wonderful except I went a bit over board and instead of keeping up with foot maintenance, I went the opposite direction and allowed callouses to form instead, figuring I would remove them before the wedding (gross, I know).

That was until the callouses opened this past weekend and my feet opened to a world of pain. Needless to say, with the help of some Band-Aids, I walked on, a bit wary I'll admit but hey, what's a dedicated fitness walker to do? I know, put on a pair of sneakers.

No! I won't do it - instead, I bought the Five Fingers!! Last night I tested them out with a run/walk (I was late for a hair appt) to 5th and Washington and back. The literature that came with the shoes advised taking a few weeks to get used to them but hey, I've been walking/running in sandals all summer so my feet are used to flat and, well, I don't have a few weeks: my walking holiday commences in 10 days!

Well, what's my verdict?

So far, so good! Yeah, I'll admit that they feel weird, particularly in the baby toe region and yes, they are still a pain in the arse to put on but I'm assuming these two issues will fade with time or I'll just deal with them. I really like the feeling I get from knowing that my body is in control of my movement and that my shoes aren't getting in the way. I like to think of it like this: traditional running/hiking shoes are designed to support your body, which is, in my opinion, why a lot of runners and hikers have major issues with joint pain and injury.

Shoes shouldn't support your body, folks. Your body should support itself and, well, that's what Vibram's Five Fingers seem to allow it to do.

I'll be wearing them on this morning's walk for fitness so I'll let you know how they do in terms of hill climbing and on varied terrain. Wish me luck!

And yes, those are my feet.

Teachers are Only Human, Folks.

http://www.nj.com/news/index.ssf/2009/08/monmouth_county_teacher_will_p.html

Let me start by saying that as a teacher, I try my hardest to set a good example and abide by school policy. Is it appropriate to make a personal phone call during class time? In theory, no. In actuality, perhaps. It's a judgement call, folks - one that every working person makes during his or her work day.

Should my dentist take a phone call while working on my teeth? Probably not. Has he? Yes, he has.

Has my manicurist pardoned herself to take a personal phone call? Absolutely.

And so have my shop attendants, bus drivers, police officers, toll booth workers, restaurant servers, secretaries, grocery store clerks, realtors, day care workers, pet groomers, gas station attendants, airplane pilots, and my absolute favorite call takers: the parents of my students, who have stopped and taken personal phone calls WITHOUT HESITATION during our parent/teacher conferences that THEY requested.

Heck, a dear rookie teacher I recently met told me a horror story about a high level administrator stopping an interview to APPLY MAKEUP - not just dab on some Chapstick because his or her lips were drying out from talking, friends, oh no. This administrator actually stopped the interview and fished a compact mirror, lipstick, AND lipliner from his or her purse and proceeded to do a full application.

Is that appropriate in theory OR in actuality? Hmm, I think we would all agree that bold move was uncalled for, period.

But do I think that admin should be fined $22,000?

No, I don't. To me, it seems the appropriate response to the lipstick situation is a no brainer - the administrator should be spoken to one - to - one by his or her supervisor to determine if he or she had a good reason for applying makeup during a professional interview (such as "my lipstick is actually a cleverly designed applicator for a vital medication that I must take once an hour; it allows me to intake my needed dose without the stigma of popping pills hourly in front of strangers) and if a good reason is not supplied, then the admin should receive a written warning that if the behavior continues, he or she may be reprimanded further - but that reprimand should not be in the form of a fine. A weeks' suspension, perhaps; forewarned loss of pay is not the same as paying a fine.

Why is it that teachers are penalized for making slight errors in judgement above and beyond other workers in society? Don't get me wrong - I'm not talking about MAJOR offenses such as diddling kiddies, drinking on the job, putting students in harm's way, slugging a kid, etc.

I'm talking about errors such as taking a two second personal phone call from a nanny when a child is sick, making an offhand comment without thinking, giving students a study hall at the onset of a raging migraine, leaving students unattended in a classroom to run to the bathroom and deal with a leaky tampon, etc.

Many are quick to judge teachers for simply being fallible human beings yet God forbid if a teacher ever has the audacity to cast judgement on the precious children of his or her jurors or on the jurors themselves.

Cast not the first stone, readers, or in this ridiculous court case, the first fine, unless you are ready to play by the same rules.

NJ: The Angry State

People in New Jersey are, for the most part, miserable and ridiculously angry.

Later on today, I'll tell you why.

Stay Tuned.

Subscribe to my blog, yo!

Hey gang - one of my personal goals this year is to write every day; it's not as easy as it sounds but I'm determined to do my best to fulfill it.

One of the ways you can help me do just that is to subscribe and comment on this blog; it will help to motivate me and to keep me working toward that goal.

When you subscribe, you'll get an email each time I post a new blog post - it's that simple.

So please take the time and become a follower of La Pointe of It All; who knows, perhaps some day you'll be able to say "I knew her when..."

Know Thy Self

This morning on my walk for fitness, I noticed three types of women walking the streets of Hoboken: the Solo Athlete (I'm using the term athlete VERY loosely since I am including myself in this category), the Working Woman, and the Out and About Mom.

The SAs I spotted this morning ranged from thin to fat and were walking, running, rollerblading, and biking. What is interesting about the SA is that she could also fit into the WW or the OaAM category, too; she could be getting in her morning fitness before heading into the city or while her husband is watching the babe before he leaves for work. Or she could fit into neither of the two categories; she could be a teacher off for the summer, unemployed, a trust fund baby, or retired.

What I noticed about the SAs collectively, is that they (we) all looked focused and a bit miserable but it was obvious that the misery stemmed from exertion and therefore was ephemeral and thus excusable.

The misery on the faces of the WW was a different sort of misery - one that stems from walking to either work or to the train garbed in office wear (some of which, I must add, was exquisite and covetable). The problem with working in an office during the summer is that it's 94 degrees and miserably humid outdoors - hence the sleeveless blouses and modified sundresses - but 63 degrees and absolutely freezing indoors - hence the sweaters thrown over aforementioned blouses and dresses.

That's just one of the reasons, I'm sure, that the WW look miserable. There are much more pressing reasons that I can easily infer to explain those looks, such as, well, working, period. Add office politics, dropping a child off at daycare, not getting enough sleep the night before because said child is colicky (sp?), working in a field that inspires no passion, etc.

The OaAMs (I refuse to call them Stay at Home Moms anymore because the majority of moms who choose to be with their children instead of working never seem to be at home - they are always out and about running errands, shuffling the kids from here to there, taking the child to the park, etc) had a different look on their faces altogether. Yes, there were a few with looks of pain spread across their visage however those looks seemed the result of a temporary set back, such as a diaper issue, etc.

Instead, most of the OaAMs had a bit of a twinkle in their eyes that seemed to say, "I can't believe this is my life - I can't believe I'm walking to Washington Street to grab a coffee and then am meeting up with some friends at the park while all of these unfortunate ladies herd themselves onto a PATH train and are shuttled like cattle through an underground network to the pen where they will be contained for the day".

Of course many of the WW would argue with the OaAMs and many of the OaAMs would argue with me that she wouldn't or would change her situation if she could, which makes me sad because obviously those women don't truly know themselves well enough to have chosen their paths correctly.

I, on the other hand, know myself so damn well that you will never hear me complain once I have a baby and make a choice between being a WW or an OaAM because I'll be blissfully happy and sure of that choice because I know myself so damn well.

Of course I'll do A LOT of bitching on a day to day basis about bits and pieces of my day that are a result of that choice, but bitching is just apart of my personality, as you all know. Mark my word, however: once I choose, you will NEVER hear me complain on a regular or even an irregular basis about which job I've chosen and I invite you to call me out on it if I do.

I can't wait to be an OaAM someday soon - I mean yeah, I wish I didn't need to actually give birth in order to become one of them but unfortunately, Matt won't budge on that point.

Oh, and just a little disclaimer - everything stated above about the OaAMs, well, that only applies to those with only ONE child, possibly two and NEVER to those with THREE or more, which is, like my dear friend Erik always says, a no - no: NEVER LET THEM OUTNUMBER YOU!

I will be having just the one, thank you, unless - dear lord - Matty comes from a family with multiples in the genes and if that is the case, make sure to check out the Etsy shop I'll be opening to view the advertised custom listing for one (or more) half Greek, half WASP baby(ies) for sale.

Wedding Dressaster

When I first got engaged, I immediately flew to Scotland to plan the wedding. On the plane, I watched the Katherine Heigl movie 27 Dresses and fell in love with the dress her character's sister wore, pictured here.

Looking at this pic, I am reminded of why. It's a freaking fantastic dress and I think I would look great in it - the pockets are just so Ali. I researched the dress and figured out the designer and model and scoured the internet for it, only to discover that it was very pricey - $4700.00.

Obviously, I didn't even attempt to go try the dress on and instead decided to be practical and frugal, so I purchased dress #1, the grey Max Azria dress.

As you know, I then decided - albeit late in the game - that I wanted a new dress, so my amazing friend Kari and I spent an entire Friday canvassing Jersey for a new dress and after giving up hope, found one.

Dress #2 is a lovely dress but of course it wasn't perfect so I re-designed the dress and took it and my ideas to my seamstress who took on the challenge.

When I went for my fitting earlier this week, I discovered that dress #2 is now unwearable do to a number of reasons. My seamstress graciously offered to loan me a $3000 designer version of the dress as a replacement. Her offer seemed so generous and so I tried on the designer dress and it was almost a perfect fit. She said she would take it in a bit and then when I brought it back, she would let it back out and sell it.

Sounded like a good idea at the time - a time when I was overwhelmed in so many ways that I could barely manage more than a few nods.

When I got dress #2 home and tried it back on, I discovered that it had been altered to a ridiculously small size and in no way fit. To make matters even more irreversible, there is not enough room to give enough leeway to let it back out.

So now I'm on my way to my fitting for dress #3 and I must admit that whereas I was kind of excited at the idea of wearing a designer dress, the reality is that it is not my dress and I'm nervous to wear it.

I can't believe I have spent over $1200 and still do not have a wedding dress and I leave the country in 13 days.

I used to make fun of girls who made such a big deal out of finding "the dress" and who were opposed to trying alternative options and insisted on marching straight to Kleinfelds but now I totally get it and realize just how important the f-ing dress is to a girl and want to kick myself for not realizing it sooner.

Wish me luck.

It's Soooo ETSY: A Shout Out to Support Artists Working From Home

When is the last time you sent out a party invitation? Not an Evite, but an actual hard copy, in the post, invitation? Your wedding? A child's birthday?

Well, if you haven't recently been on the invite scene, let me tell you this - it's changed BIG TIME. Gone are the days of sitting in a bridal shoppe or at Hallmark pouring over fat, pleather bound binders; those days and ways have been replaced by my friend and yours, the internet.

It's really true - a girl can plan an entire wedding on her WiFi laptop from the comfort of her couch. I can't begin to discuss all of the remarkable changes in the wedding industry that are the direct result of the internet; perhaps I will devote a post to that once the wedding is over and I've had a chance to put my wedding planning experience into perspective, but that's not the point of today's blog.

Today I want to give a HUGE shout to one of my favorite online marketplaces, ETSY and in particular, to one of its vendors, LaurenLoweDesigns.

As some of you may know, this past week was marked by a few late in the game changes to our wedding celebrations and I've had to think fast and re-organize. Fortunately, they came on the tail end of my FML attitude and were quickly diverted and embraced by my new Zenish one. Because I am leaving the country two weeks from today (yikes!), I went to work immediately taking care of business and one of the first details was to find new invitations and someone to print them.

I considered my options and it went something like this:

• Although I ADORE our custom design invitation to our Scottish ceremony, there was no way I was heading back up to Washington Street and emptying what is left of my dwindling bank account on 3 times as many invitations (note to all non teachers: in New Jersey, there is no such thing as getting paid in the summer. The paychecks end on the last day of school and in my case, do not commence until September 15th. This is week 8 without a paycheck - not ideal when you're wedding is three weeks away).
• EVITE is EVIL. I will NEVER send another Evite, so help me god. The Evite, in my opinion, engenders procrastination and removes responsibility by devaluing the event and, sadly, by doing so, devaluing the event planner/honoree. I've learned my lesson the Ehard way.
• I checked out the big online retailers that have jumped out to me from the pages of the 23948239847 bridal magazines I've purchased over the past four months, ones such as Weddingpaperdivas, and was frankly, overwhelmed by the options and complexity of the ordering process.
• I hit up Etsy. If you're behind the Etsy curve, it's an online marketplace for mom and pop type stores and home based artisans, craftspeople, retailers, etc. and focuses primarily on handmade and vintage goods of all kinds: jewelry (check out WiredbyWhitney), clothing, decorative items, stationary, antiques, etc.

I spent about 15 minutes browsing the hundreds of vendor before making the solid decision to use an Etsy vendor. I searched by theme and color combinations and narrowed by choice down to 3 vendors. I emailed a brief request to each and explained my situation, asked if she required a minimum order and inquired as to how quickly she could have the invites on my doorstep.

Within minutes, Lauren from LaurenLoweDesigns emailed me back and said not only could she do my number of invites in a timely fashion, but she could even start on them immediately that evening! We emailed back and forth a few times (sorry Isabella and Pete for my iPhone emailing rudeness the other night while we were out and thanks for being so understanding!) and before I went to bed that evening, I had the invitation proof in my inbox!

Lauren was amazing - she was eager, efficient, and effective and I am impressed by her professionalism, workmanship and artistic flexibility.

More so, however, I am shocked by her turn around time - I sent her my initial email Tuesday evening at 8 pm and this afternoon, I received an email that she Fed Ex'd my order this morning! I'm so excited that I'm about to email her and ask if she'll do a custom design for me for another event I'm planning!

I truly believe that the internet is going to save small business persons, artists, writers, and craftsman; it's a bridge that affords artists a way to traffic their work out into the world so it can reach people like me and dammit, that makes me feel really good. I was happy to send money to an artist for the employment of her specific skill set and doubly happy knowing she was earning money doing what she loves to do from the comfort of her home.

So, the next time you need a gift for someone, new business cards, a set of thank you notes, decorations for your child's birthday party, a special dress for a party, a veil for your wedding, a storage option to organize your desk, or a pair of pretty earrings, check outwww.etsy.com and support an artist!

Fear of Babies: I Want the Stork Myth!

One of the reasons I'm afraid to have a baby is that I worry it will come out looking like this picture. I don't want a creepy baby with taut, translucent skin, bulging eyes, giant ears, and other characteristics akin to a geriatric.

I don't understand why our society didn't continue to run with the whole stork idea. It makes perfect sense to me: one morning, you awake to find a bonnie, chubby little cherub sleeping peacefully in its Moses basket at your front door step. It gingerly opens its round, bright eyes (or almond shaped eyes if you're Asian) and greets you with a sweet cooing sound.

You reach down and take it into your arms while looking up and down the street in a perplexed yet disinterested way and upon realizing no one is coming back for the child, you are suddenly overwhelmed with parental joy and instincts and walk happily back inside.

Instant family - voila!

Now, isn't that the way it should be? Wouldn't the stork approach solve a lot of societies' issues? I mean, after all, when you open the door and see the child, if you realize you don't want a baby or aren't ready for one at that moment, you can just go back inside and shut the door.

It's true!

The stork will totally take if from there. Once the door is shut, making it clear to the stork that the homeowner is not interested in motherhood at that time, the stork will leap out of its hiding spot, scoop up the baby, shove it down into its pouch, and take it to the next person on the list.

To me, the above sounds great. Ideal, in fact, because not only would I not have to walk around for almost a year with something foreign growing inside me, I would not have to get that watermelon out of me at some point. Plus, if my baby came via stork, I would probably love it more because I would be in a better place,mentally and physically, to do so. No raging hormones! No body image crisis! No leaking, bleeding nipples!

But the best part of the stork scenario is that in the stork myth, the baby that you get is YOUR BABY. It's not someone else's baby because adoption/surrogacy/IVF is not part of the stork narrative so the stork baby is 100% yours, no questions asked.

If the stork myth was a true tale, then I would set up delivery tomorrow.

Well, maybe not tomorrow. I suppose I would wait until after August 29th, just to keep the 'rents from going mental.

College Search

Because many of you reading this blog are in the process of applying to colleges, I'm posting the following websites I heard about this morning while listening to a podcast of Abby's Road.

Abby's Road is a newly launched podcast by rising high school senior, Abby Laporte - her dad is a broadcaster who has his own radio show about tech subjects; Abby's show was launched earlier in July and is in its fifth episode. The show focuses on teen related subjects such as college, peer pressure, etc. You can check it out by downloading it off of iTunes (it's under podcasts) or you can listen to it here:

http://twit.tv/abby

The one I listened to today dealt with the college application process and mentioned these websites that you may want to check out, if you haven't done so already:

www.zinch.com - this is a social network designed to match students and colleges, in addition to matching students and scholarships. Students and colleges create profiles in hopes of easing the recruitment process on both sides.

www.unigo.com - this is an AWESOME website that provides reviews of colleges and universities by the students who attend those schools! Not only does it post written reviews, you can also browse through pictures, videos, link to school related blogs, get statistics, in addition to connecting with other rising seniors from across the country interested in the same school(s).

For someone like me who back in 1990 relied solely on word of mouth and collegiate mailings, it's difficult to fathom the myriad of ways students of today can conduct a college search.

I'm insanely jealous. Enjoy!

This is NOT a Pic of My "To Do" List

But man, I wish that list was mine. Instead, my "To Do" list for Monday, August 3rd (oh god, it's August. Crap.. August is the Sunday of the summer), reads as follows:

- walk for fitness
- work on EJ article
- choose wedding flowers
- cross fingers that Park Avenue Grill and Doug Mackenzie return my emails
- return other wedding related emails
- go pick up wedding shoes at Strachan's and, if lucky, "kick it" for about an hour or so
- go grocery shopping (ugh. I HATE grocery shopping)
- go to wedding dress fitting and hope she gets it right
- write a more interesting blog post

I leave the county in 17 days. I think I'm getting hives.

Kids and School

When, at breakfast this morning, my soon to be MIL commented, "You love your job, don't you, Ali?", I rolled my eyes and shuddered.

As if conjured by a charm, images of this past year's Period 4 English experience flooded my mind. While I LOVED the kids in that class as individuals, together as a group they drove me to the brink of madness and I can say that publicly and candidly because they know it.

They also know that I loved them and that to this day, I will go out of my way to help any of them but I'll never sugarcoat how difficult it was to teach them.

Fortunately, they had me as their teacher and I'm not saying that to sound conceited or to imply that I'm the world's greatest teacher because I'll be the first to admit that I'm not; I have A LOT of faults as an educator however luckily, the way I feel about and understand teenagers isn't one of them.

Did my Period 4 English class purposefully try to drive me insane? No. Was the atmosphere of that class the fault of an individual(s)? No. Would the experience of that same group of students have been the same if it had a different teacher? NO.

Then why was teaching that group of kids difficult?

I don't know - it just was and that's the point of this post.

Teaching is not easy - AT ALL. But learning isn't easy, either. And unfortunately, there isn't much that can be done to make either of them fool proof and, in my opinion, that's ok as long as both parties try its hardest to put forth a positive attitude and a true effort and, most importantly, as long as both parties care about one another as individuals. Mutual respect goes A LONG WAY in the classroom and in the long run, will teach a student more than a text book ever could.