Tag Archives: Shopping

Mawwiage, that bwessed awwangement…


So that pretty much sums it up.

Marriage in 74 days.

This is written on our refrigerator white board, Hubby-to-Be started the countdown this past weekend (which I’m not going to lie, is one of the cutest things EVER. He came into the bedroom and demanded I look at the fridge and was so proud of himself.)

It has me in a minor panic.

When you get engaged a good two and a half years before you’re planning on actually tying the knot, it definitely seems like forever away from the day. And when you pick the venue and the flowers, DJ and photographer about two months after getting engaged, and more than a year and a half away from getting away, you feel like you have all this time.

And then it’s less than three months away and you realize it’s probably a good idea to pretend this is happening and get your shit together.

Luckily, although we are getting married in New York and are living in Florida, (and planning a wedding at home is just insane), we have a lot of great support at home and they are amazing.

But I’m still on the verge of a panic attack. (Well, not every day. But I can see to some extent why the Bridezilla nonsense happens).

It only occurred to me like three days ago I should probably figure out if the people I wanted to do my hair and makeup were available and willing. Luckily, they are. (Thank GOD!)

I still haven’t managed to figure out any of the music stuff. What do you play in the church? And sitting down and listing out all the stuff for the DJ… ugh, my blood pressure is rising just thinking about it. (This is coming from the bride that took three separate visits in order to register at Bed Bath & Beyond. The whole idea of asking for people to give you things was bizarre to me, even though it’s the norm. I was totally overwhelmed by the gadget wall and refused to do it until the last trip. I also didn’t want the consultants following me around because I felt pressured at first… like seriously? I clearly have issues. I did let them come, though, in the end they were helpful. Although I had to make a point of telling them to stop trying to get me to select bread makers and ice cream makers and the makers of all the random things I decided I would never make. They kept telling me I was the weirdest bride they’d ever worked with because usually they are more excited, and here I am, trying not to hyperventilate).

(hmmm, maybe I should have asked for the ice cream maker. I also never thought I’d be making jewelry and crafting, so who knows.)

And then the bridal store didn’t want to do Saturday fittings. Seriously? Tell me, are they under the impression the magical wedding fairy is paying for all this? Do they not realize people work? Also, I am 1200 miles away and we bought 13 dresses from you. Figure it out! You knew six months before my initial consultation I live out of state! (That advance notice was probably excessive. It’s the producer in me.)

And once I managed to get them to bring someone in for a Saturday fitting, now I worry that the dress won’t be altered appropriately. (I’m not tiny, but managed to shed a few pounds. Dress was originally sized for my bottom-heavy hips, and I’m smaller on top, and ugh.)

And everyone is always asking where our honeymoon is.

We don’t have one.

First, I’m taking off a week and a half just for the wedding because of the distance factor… so for a nice honeymoon, I’d be off for like 3 weeks… and let’s just say I like my job. (Although I must admit, they are really accommodating, that does seem a bit much. We’d rather spread our vacation out for a little reprieve later in the year).

And again… there’s no little honeymoon fairy. So we will just have something else to look forward to later in the year 🙂

I totally lost all momentum in this post. I forget where I was going here… SEE WHAT THIS DOES TO ME?!

I guess the key points are: Hubby-to-Be is being real cute about the wedding… Only 11.6 more pounds until my weight-loss goal (well… the attainable goal. What I originally wanted eventually became physically impossible without being sick)… planning an out-of-state wedding (not destination wedding, like full-blown Long Island-style deal)… and I clearly need to go to sleep.

Oh! That jewelry I mentioned? Like me on Facebook! https://www.facebook.com/renengadejewelsshop

I like sparkly things and I put them together.

(Don’t judge, I just started.)

I JUST ALMOST WENT BRIDEZILLA ON MY LAPTOP, YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW! This entire pointless post was just nearly deleted and I can. not. deal.

Anyone know why my laptop randomly selects things and deletes them and skips around while I type? I am going CRAZY! (well, crazier).


By the way… what movie is the title from? 🙂

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I volunteer as tribute









A new “Worst Drivers” ranking came out a couple of weeks ago.

You can find it here: http://www.carinsurancecomparison.com/which-states-have-the-worst-drivers/

Well, it’s taken me this long to come to terms with it, because they claim the #1 worst drivers are apparently in Louisiana… Florida’s are the 6th worst.

Stop it.

I feel like this cannot at ALL be accurate. Have you people ever DRIVEN in Florida? Keep in mind that at some point, all the worst drivers from everywhere else come here to visit or live. (Thanks, Mickey.)

A good friend of mine recently wrote a really good post describing the different types of drivers: http://cynicalsassypants.wordpress.com/2013/12/18/road-warrior/

This is all pretty much accurate.

Because, you see, the title of this post is pretty much how I feel EVERY time I get into my car to get on the road, especially during rush hours and/or when required to drive on a highway. I feel like I am heading into a battle to the death.

Drivers here are INSANE. First, you’ve got that death-trap otherwise known as I-4. Then, no one has any idea what a blinker is, much less how it is to be used and what it indicates. Forget when any sort of weather or electronic device is involved. No one knows how to merge, how to park, how to do pretty much anything that one is generally required to know when driving.

I-4 is a highway that runs between Daytona and Tampa, roughly, for those who don’t know. Especially through the Orlando-area, it is bendy, and there are accidents constantly. One of the things that baffles me the most is that motorcycle riders aren’t required to wear helmets here, and most of them don’t. How in the HELL does this make sense to anyone? They don’t wear helmets, but they have jackets or bumper stickers that warn car drivers to “Look twice, save a life”, in regards to bikers, and they weave in and out of traffic, drive on lane lines, hang out in your blind spots, etc. Oh, okay, so if my vehicle is small enough to fit anywhere I think I can bring it, it’s totally acceptable to put it there. (That’s what she said.)

Hubby-to-Be wants a motorcycle. No. As it is, he thinks he’s damn Speed Racer and some sort of professional driver. “Don’t worry, I know exactly what I’m doing, I got this.” -.- Yeah, and you’ll also have my foot up your ass. Stop driving like a tool. (Love youuuu.)

Not that I’ve never used my cell phone while driving, but listen, if you look up and are approximately 234 car lengths behind the car in front of you, people are either honking, or swerving wildly to get out of the lane and pass you, you should probably put the phone down and pay attention to where you’re going.

This also applies to people who like to drive approximately 7 mph. If people are having the same reaction to your progress to the one I just described, either get moving, or if you don’t actually need to be anywhere, stay home, because I do and you’re bothering me. Please at least drive the speed limit.

Florida also has a law where if there’s vehicles stopped on the shoulder, you’re supposed to move over into the next lane to give them some breathing room. This is a great idea; even in New York, there has been cops killed or people trying to change a tire or whatever and killed because some idiot isn’t paying attention and clips them.

Except it doesn’t work if the buttheads that approach the vehicle first move over… and then drive about 13 mph so they can watch the person trying to change a tire and box you in so that you can’t move over. Seriously? What could POSSIBLY be so interesting about changing a tire? If you don’t know how to do it, while you’re in transit is certainly not the time to learn, so KEEP GOING.

Then there’s the blinker issue. I realize a blinker isn’t a demand for me to change lanes, or merge, or turn, etc… merely a request. But I see you as you try as hard as you can to pretend you don’t see it. You’re not fooling anyone. I want to punch you in the throat because you’re purposely not letting me in and I know it. So can you at least speed up and get out of the damn way so I can make it over? (By the way, you are SO right. You are so totally going to get to your destination SO much sooner because you didn’t let me in.)

And let’s talk about holiday shopping. This is where all people, native, transplant or tourist, seem to feel they can make up parking spaces wherever they wish, disregard ALL rules of the road, and dart across the road on one of the busiest streets in Central Florida all because they are going shopping. And no one does anything about stopping the madness. BOGGLES my mind.

I’m pretty sure I was almost shot in the face back on Black Friday over a parking space. This was after I stalked three men for about ten minutes through the parking lot until they remembered where they parked. I WORKED for that spot, dammit! (You’ve done it. You know how it is at the big mall wherever you are. Everyone else magically stumbles upon the person that just happens to be leaving next to you, but you have to hunt these people down.) THEN they try to pull in it from the opposite direction?! I do not think so. Luckily, they seemed to sense my level of rage at this point, so they backed up… but as I continued to yell from the safety of my car (windows up, I am not TRYING to get shot), they actually sat there in their car and watched me for awhile. So I waited until they left and took a zigzag route up the aisles until I got to the mall entrance. (I avoided this mall when I finished my shopping this past weekend.)

But that’s pretty much how it is here– how is a Long Island girl supposed to survive? I have to yell and scream at you as I drive. It’s in my blood. You can take the girl outta Long Island, but you can’t take the Long Island outta the girl. Maybe suck less at driving and then I won’t have to.

Oh– did you read the fine print on the ranking link?

Worst Ranking Factor: Careless Driving: 51st

(In case you’re wondering how they got 51 out of only 50 states, they’re counting Washington D.C. as one. It may or may not have taken me a good 5 minutes to figure this out.)


Ah. Yes. It all makes sense now.

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Dear parents of teenage girls…

Christmas shopping with just 4 days until the big day is always a hassle.

People are animals, they park in random places that are decidedly not parking spots, and you feel like you’re taking your life in your hands by being anywhere near a mall or shopping center.

This isn’t what bothered me today.

Before I go much farther, I will make this clear that this is going to be a rant of sorts. If you’re a parent, especially one of a teenage girl, stick around… if you’re not, but like a good rant, this is for you. If you’re none of the above… see you tomorrow 🙂

Still with me?

It was like 85 degrees in Central Florida. I still can’t get over it being that hot around Christmas, the New Yorker in me is having a tough time feeling festive.

I went to the mall to purchase the last few gift items… and as usual during this time of year, it was a complete zoo.

But the absolute worst thing was the amount of ass on full display.

I don’t mean one or two adults.

I mean dozens of teenage girls with their butt cheeks hanging so far out of their barely-there “denim shorts”, you were literally looking at cheeks when they were standing up STRAIGHT.

Now, I am not yet a parent. Hopefully soon, in the next year or so, if Hubby-to-Be and I can get ourselves together. So before anyone tells me I don’t know what it’s like to be a parent, I don’t know how hard it is, etc. etc., let me head you off and tell you– yeah, I know, I’m aware.

But this isn’t about attacking any one person’s parenting skills, it’s about a problem we seem to have in society as a whole.

Why are you letting your 11-17 year old girls out of the house wearing shorts so short, that if someone wanted to look hard enough, they could pretty much see all the goody parts? (To be clear– I didn’t have to look hard. Cheeks hanging out of shorts. Right there.)

Listen, I know what kind of a pain-in-the-ass a teen girl can be. I used to be one. I am not at all proud of half the stuff I did and said.

But right about now, I’m almost happy I grew up as a fat kid. My parents only had to worry about my boobs displaying too much cleavage, because after the age of 11 I was pretty much too embarrassed about what my legs/thighs looked like to bother trying to wear booty shorts ever, much less out of the house.

Here’s the thing, though. I know what it was like to want to get dressed up and go to the mall, just in case some really cute guy was there or something. (Not that they were ever interested in me, but it didn’t matter. It’s what girls do.)

I know what it’s like to want to wear whatever is “in style” and whatever all the “trendy” teen stores sell, what all the “cool” girls wear. And my parents knew how to tell me “no.”

But these days, what the teens are wearing frankly scares the hell out of me, and I’m only in my mid-20s. When your butt is hanging that far out of your shorts, before you even bend over, how is that okay?

Parents wonder why cyber-bullying happens, why other kids call their daughters sluts, I mean, are you kidding? Because it’s appropriate for a 14-year-old to wear shorts or a skirt like that, with her belly hanging out, see through, with a neon-colored push-up bra, creating cleavage that rivals a Playboy bunny’s? This is okay?

I am in NO way at all advocating cyber-bullying, calling girls names suggesting they are sexually promiscuous, nothing. I am not even suggesting these same nameless girls I saw are any of those things, either.

But the reality is, stereotypes exist for a reason, right or wrong. We all know they are wrong. But as humans, we cannot help ourselves. Whether we think we do or not, we judge. So why allow your child to perpetuate one?

I am scared to death to have a baby girl, because what will be “in style” when she’s 13 that I’m fighting to keep her out of? Will it make people think she looks like a slut, even if she isn’t? And just as scary, will I have a baby boy, who I will have to constantly fight to make sure he doesn’t see or refer to girls/women that way himself?

So here’s what you can do: don’t buy clothes like that. They make them because you buy them.

I also saw plenty of teenage girls at the mall looking “trendy” and “cool” in age-appropriate clothing. Buy that for your girls.

I can remember plenty of times I argued with my parents over what was okay to wear where. They always won. YOU should always win. Not the child. Stop being their friend and be a parent. If it’s cute, but isn’t appropriate, well, then, they’ll be 18 soon and/or out of the house soon enough, and hopefully you taught them well enough beforehand that they don’t think they need to be hanging out to be accepted or called beautiful.

Don’t you remember growing up and “hating” your parents because they didn’t get you when you were a teen? (I’ll say, I was lucky enough to have parents I never hated. Oh, sure, they pissed me off and vice versa, but they managed to find the right balance between friend and parent.)

But that’s the point! They aren’t supposed to like everything you do or say! You should get along and they should feel comfortable coming to you, but it should be clear– there is a line and you are the parent, disciplinarian, boss. They are not going to like it all the time.

This doesn’t mean you can’t listen to their arguments, value their opinions, but it does mean ultimately, you make the decision that’s in their best interest.

And yeah, you’ll make mistakes. We all do. But it will work out.

This goes for clothes, social media accounts, video games, parties, friends, driving, sex– anything teens want to do, but should be mature enough and educated enough to understand fully and just be able to handle.

I’m SO tired of covering stories where a teenager goes and does something awful, be it violence, cyber-bullying, commits suicide or anything else… and hearing soundbites from parents saying they didn’t want their teen to be mad at them, or even worse, just not being there at all.

Let them hear the word “no.” Let them learn about disappointment in a loving environment where the end result is a lesson, where at the end of the day you will still love them. Because when you turn them loose on the world… the world won’t do that for them.

It may not be easy. It’s gonna suck. But we can do better.

And as I write this all… I hope that in ten years, this still exists for me to look back on. Because I know that it won’t be easy. I know that babies don’t come out of the womb with a handbook that spells it out. I know that it will be difficult, stressful, and I may sometimes think it’s easier to just say “yes” than argue.

But I hope that at the end of the day… at the end of the teenage years… we’ve all made it through and my kids have self-respect. They can handle disappointment.

And they wear shorts that cover their asses.

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