I need a buddy to play with!

We literally spent nearly six months looking for the right fit for us. Steven never had a dog he could call his own, so I reserved all most judgment while we searched endlessly online, photo after photo. We knew that we wanted to help save our soon-to-be family member from the shelter. I had once worked near a shelter, and seeing as many dogs go in (and even less come out adopted) was enough to keep me from buying from a breeder. Steven had also done quite a bit of research on the euthanasia rates in our area, and let’s just say that once you hear the numbers, you should really reconsider adopting from a shelter. So we forged ahead, searching for the one who would steal our hearts. (And let me tell you, my heart ached at every photo we looked at!)

After months on end looking at the depressing photos of online shelters, we have decided on our baby girl. Ironically, I’ve only seen as much of her as you have — Steven headed to the shelter on Saturday and picked her out on his own! Well, he did have a little help … Mo tagged along, and her kennel was the first he settled upon. And through Steven’s text messages and e-mailed photos, I knew right away that she belonged in our family.

Baby Girl loves her older brother!

Although it stinks, fortunately the animal shelter near our home requires that all adopted pets get fixed before coming home to their new owners. The downside is that I still haven’t met her yet! We were scheduled to pick her up today after work, but just learned that the vet needed to tend to a few emergency surgeries before he could work on our pup. But that’s OK … we know she’ll be worth the wait!

So I’m sure you’re all wondering … what the heck are we going to name her? Well, that’s a feat bigger than finding the right pup! Steven thinks “Molly” fits her personality, while I am dead-set on “Ruby.” Who doesn’t love the name Ruby? Since we now have another 24+ hours to think it over, I’m curious … what do you think her name should be?

Ruby ... or Molly? Help us decide!

Since time is a rare commodity for me these days, I thought you might enjoy the abbreviated version of my life…

Working. A shitload. I should’ve been a lawyer, but I’m convinced they really don’t have much time to enjoy their billings. (Sorry, Aunt M.!) The odd thing is that it’s slightly addicting. Yeah, I said it. We’re working full-steam ahead with a regional solar company working to go national and take us with them. I’m also organizing the media buys for the Stockton Asparagus Festival (Shameless plug: April 24-26, buy your online tickets now!!! Asparagusfest.com) and a whole host of rad projects. It’s definitely stressful, but it’s not all in vain.

Mo recovered nicely from his surgery… thank you friends for your love and support! Glad to report he’s the same ‘ol Mo. No more shenanigans, unless you count laying on our new couches when mom and dad are at work. Brat!

Wedding plans are moving… at the speed of null. But that’s ok. All I really need is a videographer, and a priest — that’s HIS only task. It feels good to not worry about any wedding details!

I am also working on starting an educational blog site for pit bulls and animal welfare. It’s in the very, very early planning stages, but something I am extremely passionate about. More soon.

Keep on, keepin’ on!

These lyrics are for you, friend. Smile … I love you!

Whatever You’re Doing (Something Heavenly)
From the album We Need Each Other

It’s time for healing time to move on
It’s time to fix what’s been broken too long
Time make right what has been wrong
It’s time to find my way to where I belong
There’s a wave that’s crashing over me
All I can do is surrender

It’s time to face up
Clean this old house
Time breathe in and let everything out

Label: Chordant (EMI)

• Life has been good. Reallllly good.
• When I had free time (back around since the last post), I learned how to knit, thanks to my best friend, the Cougar (to be continued … she’s a peach!). For the past few years, she’s always given me a scarf for Christmas, and I always told her I wanted to learn. Honestly, I thought it might be hard, and figured I’d learn when the grey hairs started creeping in (knock on wood). Anyhoo, Cougs gave our girlfriends and I knitting needles for Christmas and promised a Stitch & Bitch lesson with all the girls.
  

  My lovely creation. Mo's not too happy about modeling for this pic!

  Hard it was, but the more I knit the more the learning curve decreases. Plus I’ve made some pretty nifty shit over time. This is the greatest thing to learn if you’re a chick. Down economy? Pssh. Instead of that adorable overpriced $20 stole you can find anywhere, how about a $4 bundle of yarn transformed into a handcrafted, one-of-a-kind (if you count the holes here and there) strip of neck warmth? The arthritis is already kicking in, but man, does my neck look good these days!
• Unfortunately, my free time looks like the depleting hourglass, destined for zilch. However I will say that I don’t mind it too much. For the first time in my life, I really, really love what I do. I mean, I’ve always loved what I do, but I know I super love it when I don’t mind working a 10- to 12-hour day. Crazy, right? I know. The little “bump” in the career path turned out to be a tremendous blessing in disguise. I’m working on accounts that are fun, forward-thinking and kick-ass, and although I pull my hair out once in awhile, the good always outweighs the bad. I’m learning a lot, too. This agency has a high caliber of staff and everyone is strong in their own right — and the result is continuously striving to improve while having a good time and knocking back a couple of liquid lunches every now and again. (Now that could be my favorite part.)
• Of course, as to be expected, all is grand with my sexy stud. Wedding planning is coming along quite nicely ever since we decided to veer the course and stick to simple. And something fabulous I’ve learned over the past few weeks: now that I don’t have time to follow the news too much, I’ve discovered that I have my very own newscaster — unbiased and raw with the truth — in my very own home. It’s lovely! The best part is that my love recognizes what a clusterfuck the media is and does his own digging to find his own (and what should be everyone else’s) truth. I wish everyone in the world could listen to him talk — as I do every night — and be inspired. Sigh. I fall harder every day.
• The Mo has matured overnight. At least that’s the way it appears for the time being. Since he’s short-haired, and it’s been ass-kicking cold in the mornings, we’ve been keeping him inside during the day. I swear, for a dog that couldn’t stand to be locked in a pen, he sure does well for being in a house all day.
  

  Typical morning. Last one outta bed ...

  I’m convinced he rarely moves from his cozy little bed on one of our living room chairs. (Except when I find suspicious dog hairs on our countertops … duh. He’s a jumper!) Or until we come home. Every day I’m greeted with a million face licks and the most manical buttshake you’ve ever seen. I’m convinced that in his head, he’s saying, “You’re home! I love you! I love you! Yay! Alright! Mama’s home! Rawhide and lovin’ time!” He’s too stinkin’ cute. Although he’s happy now, I’m not sure how long it’s gonna last. This upcoming Monday, Mo is getting the snip-snip. I’ve had him for eight years, and never really considered it until we went to the dog park this past weekend. I have never had any intention of breeding him, but was somehow convinced that it would make him less of a man. (I know, I know. He’s a dog. I get it.) But after gleefully packing up, driving across town and walk-running to the gates with anticipation, we were faced with huge signs: NO UN-NEUTERED MALES.
  

  My loves at the dog park ... after sneaking Mo in. We're such rebels.

  Whaaaaat? The thought never occurred to me that his freckled little golfballs would hinder us from the 15 other drooling hounds having a ball (no pun intended) behind the pearly gates of dog city. So, after a long discussion between “Mom” and “Dad”, we decided to schedule an appointment. Sorry, Bubba. I still love you!

Peace and Blessings.

Take a look at the lyrics and you’ll understand. Better yet, click on the link below and listen the song. A description from the band itself:

‘By Your Side’ is just a call to anyone who’s struggling or fighting against God thinking they have to work to earn it. It’s calling them to stop looking for what you can do for God and fix your gaze upon what God has done for you. Let that motivate you. We love because He first loved us.

Tenth Avenue North – By Your Side
From the album Over And Underneath

Why are you striving these days?
Why are you trying to earn grace?
Why are you crying?
Let me lift up your face
Just don’t turn away

Why are you looking for love?
Why are you still searching?
As if I’m not enough?
To where will you go child,
Tell me where will you run?
To where will you run?

Chorus:
Cause I’ll be by your side wherever you fall
In the dead of night whenever you call
Please don’t fight these hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you

Look at these hands, at my side
They swallowed the grave, on that night
When I drank the world’s sin
So I could carry you in
And give you life

Chorus:
Here at my side wherever you fall
In the dead of night whenever you call
Please don’t fight these hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you
And I, I love you
And I want you to know
That I, I’ll love you

© 2008 Essential Tunes / West Main Music / Formerly Music (SESAC) All rights admin. by Sony/ATV Sounds LLC (SESAC). / Peertunes, Ltd. (SESAC) / Grange Hill Music (SESAC) / Windsor Way Music (SESAC). Grange Hill Music and Windsor Way Music administered by Peertunes, Ltd. / Phillip LaRue Publishing Designee (ASCAP)

Although I love my new job, I put in some hefty hours. Even when I’m not sitting in front of my work computer, I’m constantly thinking of new marketing ideas that my clients would drool over. My point is that when it comes to working an eight to sometimes five, six or nine o’clock job, one doesn’t always have ample time to be calling various photographers, churches, venues, videographers, floral companies, DJs, etc. etc. Particularly when those people don’t put in a few extra hours in the evenings or weekends to do business for those of us who are freedom-challenged. Trying to plan an extravagant wedding could be a full-time job, and it is, for some people. But for those of us on a budget, we look to our mothers and friends (and the occasional fiancé IOU) to help us make the tedious phone calls and ask the tough questions.

Well, after six months of sporadic wedding planning where I’d give up, take a break, dust off my worries and start planning anew – over and over again – I realized that I needed to follow my heart and do what felt right. Why didn’t I do this all along? Good question.

You see, I was never the plan-your-wedding-day-from-the-age-of-five kinda gal. Sure, I daydreamed about it … but I didn’t obsess over it like some girls tend to do. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that … ahem.) So I had no idea what I wanted … but I learned that everything comes at a price.

Needless to say, it took some time to sift through all of the options (because I had to entertain them all to learn what I really wanted … of course) and settle on a direction. Recently my fiancé and I had a heart-to-heart and realized that we were kidding ourselves all along – a big wedding, albeit nice and all-encompassing, really wasn’t what either of us wanted. We didn’t have time to worry about all of the little details … we preferred to spend the day with our family and close friends, not just in the same room as them. A guest list can get out of control pretty fast, and asking yourself, What’s two more?, seems like a good method until you open your laptop one day to find a small town. Then try wading through the must-haves, definitely’s, sure why nots, oks and I guess so’s that mysteriously appeared out of nowhere – and that’s just your parents’ list. (They’re a lot harder to cross off than add, believe you me!)

So we’ve come to the conclusion that we should share our special day with those we have grown up with – who have seen us transition through the first 20-something years of our lives – and those who we now share our rare – and precious – free time with. We’re both content with having our parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and dear friends bless our day with their mere presence and help us embark on the next wonderful journey in our young lives. This doesn’t mean that we don’t wish to have anyone else share in this defining moment – we do. But not at the expense of my sanity and our savings account.

And with this intimate setting, we can truly have the wedding of our dreams. We plan on marrying in his family’s Catholic Church in honor of his heritage, culture and faith. The Church is a beautiful structure, and we both prefer that God is at the center of our union, regardless of anything else. I look forward to the day of promising both my future hubby and my Lord and Savior to honor both and love with my whole heart until He calls.

The point is, it’s up to my love and I to start our marriage off on the right foot – in a setting that feels right to us and radiates with love.

And finally, after months of learning the hard way, we’ve finally found our match.

Now naturally, I’m a people pleaser. To a certain extent. In my ripe old age of 27, I’ve learned that you have to pick your battles wisely, otherwise you’ll spend the rest of your life fighting. But one can only do so much. When being the better person doesn’t go according to plan, I do what any sane, well-composured gal would do. I pull my hair out, scream obscenities under my breath and put my foot down. (Caution: I can and will be one big ol’ bitch when the situation calls for it. You’ve been warned.)

One would think that this approach may work, given that it is my (excuse me, our) wedding day. Ohhhh no. The friendly (and sometimes downright ridiculous) suggestions don’t stop once I’ve demanded that all hail the wedding couple and their wishes on our special day.

Don’t get me wrong … I understand that most everyone has good intentions. (And I do welcome the reasonable tips and tricks.) But some can’t seem to get over the fact that they weren’t happy with their wedding years ago, and feel the need to dictate every little detail. Well my friends, I am no Bed Bath & Beyond doormat. I’ve always been the type that if you push me one way, I’ll flee like a madwoman in the other direction. It’s simply a fact.

It also doesn’t help that I’m the world’s worst decision maker. I’ve changed the wedding date twice, the colors about five times, and finally asked my bridesmaids after an eternity of hard consideration. (There’s no going back! Just kidding, I love you girls.) But seriously, I’m my own worst enemy. Add on trying to please the parents, not letting my fiance realize I’m part-crazy and my hellbent determination to make this wedding the best anyone’s ever seen, and you’ve (rather I’ve) got a recipe for disaster.

Which is probably why it’s been six months and a handful of days since our engagement, and I barely have any plans nailed down. I’ve got the dress, the bridesmaids, the date and the world’s best fiance, yet no concrete plans. I’ve been putting off planning from the moment I realized that this was a lot harder than it looks.

Needless to say, I’m done trying to people-please. I have realized that as long as my fiance and I are happy, that’s all that matters. And in the end, it’s not about the wedding day — although it will undoubtedly be one of the biggest days of our lives — it’s about the love we have for each other and our commitment to fostering that love for the rest of our lives as man and wife.

Ha. Who am I kidding? It’s all about the honeymoon.

I’ve wanted to shout from the rooftops. My frustration. Sadness. Craziness. Enlightenment. The good, the bad and the ridiculously tacky. But I just couldn’t. [Sigh.]

You see, it’s my words that get me into trouble in the first place.

I have a tendency to want to fix things. For example: when a girlfriend you love to death is dating the bane of your existence. Or maybe just a thorn in your side. Whatever. I don’t care who you are, everyone has been in this kind of a position and it sucks. You hear the shit, over and over about “him” and to us, it seems easy. And then your girlfriend asks for your opinion. (Never give unless you’ve been asked — but even then, be cautious!) Ohhhkayyyy … I can fix this for you: dump the jerk. In reality though, that’s not really a good way to “fix” things … but honestly, what else is there to do but give you the cold, hard truth!  And this is all fine and dandy until she goes back to him for the 10th time. Now he’s pissed and she’s on his team (all of a sudden) and you’ve got a pile of shit in your lap. It probably would’ve been best to keep my big mouth shut.

So I resolve to not say a word, because it’s easier. You heard right … self-censorship. Me? I know … I can’t believe I’m doing it either. Who does that? A lot of people do, I’m sure. But never me. Censored? That word wasn’t even a part of my vocabulary once upon a time. BUT get this — it’s the easy way out AND the best way out.

What I’m trying to say is that from this point forward, I will not stick my foot in my mouth. Ahem.

(However, don’t worry friends. I will find more time away from my sweet little dog and handsome fiance to blog about non-dramatic things, like wedding flowers and art crafts and all of the other little things that make my heart flutter.)

UGH!