Attack of the bridezillas.

I promise I won't be an over-excited bride that shares every detail about her wedding planning from the color of the napkins to the beading on her dress but I will tell you that between obsessively...yes obsessively searching Pinterest and Etsy, as well as, attempting to draw the exact type of wedding dress I would like, I have totally become lost in this whirlwind they call wedding planning and I have learned that I am way more decisive that I had thought and really terrified of the bridezilla population out there. You know who you are ladies. 

My mother decided to take me to one of those frilly and fun bridal shows a few weeks ago. We decided to go to see what these bridal conventions were all about. If you know me, I am hardly the type to attend one of these overwhelming events but decided to indulge in this pre-wedding check on the long-list of things to do. 

We walked in and were immediately greeted by a zealous bride convention representative lady with a basket full of stickers. I was tagged with a 'Bride' sticker and a pat to get started. Jeez. I was already getting stuffy. There were tables filled with booklets, business cards, photographs, hair pieces, veils, cake, make-up, and over-excited brides-to-be searching for the perfect photographer or the carriage that Cinderella had for their dream of a wedding. 

My mother (much like me), and I walked into this room, where the cheesy wedding music was blaring, the mimosas were flowing, and the brides-to-be were walking around with bags overflowing with goodies and we just sat down. It was entirely too much. When the announcers asked who was stressed planning and the hands shot up with the screams from bridezillas in ever corner of the room; I looked at my mom, stood up, and walked out of the door, grabbing a piece of cake on my way out. It was raspberry lemon and was so unbelievably delicious but not enough to get me back in that room with raging, stressed fanatic brides.

My mom quickly followed, tearing off the "mother of the bride" sticker off of her shirt saying "I can't believe I had to wear that. I think the brides are going to attack the stage." 

We got into the car and swore we would never go to one of those bridezilla conventions again and then proceeded to get cheeseburgers and chocolate milkshakes.....top of the "meals not allowed" for brides to be list, but who ever said I was a traditional bride to be? 

Clearly I am not worthy of this "bride-to-be" title but I will stick to my discreet wedding planning, away from the hysteria, eating a cheeseburger and milkshake here and there.

Oh and my apologies that I have neglected this blog of mine lately. As you can see, I was clearly busy, running from bridezillas and eating cake. 

Resolutions, Shmesolutions.

"I'm going to make a resolution to eat less cheese. Wait, I would 'love' to make a resolution to eat less cheese, but I can't. I love it."

--this is what normally occurs when I attempt to make resolutions for the new year. 

So what I will leave myself with while on the brink of beginning 2013: 

savor every moment,

laugh too much, 

*try* to eat less cheese,

show love and compassion,

be kind to everyone,

leave my mark,

make those dreams I have sitting under my pillow every night, come true

create, learn, and grow,

make my pins on pinterest a reality (i had to),

see more, 

find a big white dress (even though i don't enjoy them), 

walk Romeo more,

and find passion in all I do. 

That's more of an every day mantra. 

So my resolution is to always keep that in mind. 

Life is too good to us to not savor it.  

Thank you, 2012.

I'm sad to see 2012 go, but more than happy and hopeful for 2013. 

David and I were sitting in bed last night; he was watching a show I claim to be awful but secretly it's growing on me. I opened my journal and flipped back to January 2, 2012 where I had written all of my resolutions to work on in the past year. An overwhelming sense of accomplishment and a gratuitous smile basically ate my face. David and I read it over together, realizing that 2012 was not only a good year for us both, where we grow as individuals and especially together, but for the strength we mustered in the bad times to tread on to 2013. We are making our mark slowly in this new year with a better understanding of where we want to be. We have gained a great momentum to push us forward that we slowly built in 2012. For that, I am sad to see 2012 to go.

In 2012,

I finally broke out of the working funk I was in and made the move to find something new. A new experience, a new line of work, new environment, and new people. It was exciting and gave me the courage to keep looking for my niche. 

Cupcakes By Vickie decide to make it's own little place in the world. I decided baking in my kitchen for David, myself, and my family to indulge was not cutting it for me or my waist line anymore. Cupcakes By Vickie was started, logo was made, and I began baking for others; which gave me more joy...I slowly realized. Now I spend my weekends baking, creating, and seeing people smile when they are biting into one of my cupcakes. 

Little, er BIG Romeo found me in the mall one day and quickly became the most loved one in our little family. I am so thankful we found each other and he became a quick companion for David when he needed it more than anything. 

David and I found a little temporary home to make our own for a while. We made it our own and it is the most cozy place to call ours for the time being. 

David and I celebrated 4 *long* (just kidding) years together and he surprised me with a sparkly ring to tell me he wanted to be with me forevs. It was a night I'll never forget. 

2012 left me with the most amazing memories of love, family, late summer night barbecues, seeing my kiddies growing up, passion and drive to create and find my niche in the world, and so much to look forward to in 2013. 

2013, I can only hope you are as good to us as 2012 was. 

There is so much to look forward to. 

New opportunities and endeavors. More traveling. A winter wedding thrown in the mix : ) 

And so many new memories, I hope. 

here's to 2012, welcome 2013. 

We hope your season was warm and bright.

Although it may be next Christmas by the time I get to writing about our holidays, at least I can leave you with this little token and wish. 

We hope your holidays were full of love, warmth, and a whole lot of joy. 

Wishing you a beautiful and bright 2013. 

Love, 

Vickie, David, and Romeo 

The worst week ever.

I'm not one to complain on here, because well, there is not much to complain about regarding my life...if you delete last week. I was in good ole Bloomington, Illinois all last week for work and no offense to anyone who lives there, but yikes, it may have been the worst week, ever and here's why: 

1. We had to leave on a Sunday. Sundays are one of my favorite days. I sleep in late, enjoy breakfast, and snuggle up with Romeo. David and I get the whole day together with no interruptions and no work attachments. Sundays are my low-key, don't have to get dressed up, hang out in rain boots and sweats all day (and I do, every Sunday, even if it's not raining). I had to get on a plane and go to Bloomington on a Sunday, first strike in my book. 

2. We had a layover. The plane was tiny and cramped. Boo. Strike Two. 

3. Bloomington is.....before I say this, no offense to anyone who lives there or loves it there, but to me it felt almost as if I had stepped backwards into the early 90s and clearly did not fit in anymore. There wasn't much there besides the Fridays connected to the hotel and a Panera in the parking lot. My meals didn't really consist of anything remotely appetizing or healthy there, let's just say that. Strike 3. (THey keep coming), but we've already struck out for the week. 

4. I hate not having a car. I hate not having the freedom to go where I want to go. Didn't have that this week. I know I sound like a very high-maintenance complainer right now, yikes...maybe I should stop. For the sake of this post, depending on a shuttle driver to take me where I wanted to go all week, was awful. 

5. I had to wake up at 6 every day. Most days I wake up at 7:30, sometimes I wake up at 6. It was not fun. 

6. I got sick. YES, it was terrible. I laid in bed, in an uncomfortable hotel room all day, unable to eat, or sleep, with NOTHING to watch on tv, and no Romeo, or David. It was so unbelievably awful, I think I cried a few times. 

7. I even made a lovely ER appearance at Bloomington's hospital. I had never wished I was home more than that night. 

8. I never ever want panera, fridays or pizza hutt EVER again. 

I'm done complaining. It was an awful week, so incredibly awful. Between wishing I was home and trying to find the bright side of the trip, I was just a mess and coming home could not have been sweeter. 

Now that I have complained your ear off, I promise I will be positive. 

I'm home, my birthday is this week, and I absolutely cannot wait for Christmas. 

So here's to being a little happier and never going to Bloomington, ever, ever again. 

He surprised me.

Friday night, I unlocked the door to my house, attempting to be super sly, have my brothers bring in the television I bought for David for our anniversary. In the midst of my attempted stealthiness I walked smack into a room lit with candles, David and Romeo sitting patiently on the couch. 

So much for my surprise!

He walked over to me, Romeo running with his best cardigan on, and a homemade sign saying: 

"Will you marry my dad? Please..."

He proceeded to get down on one knee....and the rest of the details of the night are sweetly savored in my memory except for the fact that my entire family knew and were waiting back at my mom's house for us to celebrate. They never cease to surprise me. 

It was cozy, simple, and sweet. 

November 16, 2008, David and I started dating. 

November 16, 2012 he proposed. 

It was quite a night. 

He loved the television by the way. His man-cave is almost complete. 

xoxo

When we met.

disclaimer: yes...this is one of those 'how we met stories'.

I swore off men the day before we "sort of" met. I decided after one too many disappointing boys came in and out of my life that I was going to chop my hair off (yes, I pulled the drastic appearance change following a break-up). I needed a change and that change involved steering clear of any type of romance and just having fun with my girlfriends. So....we went out, all dolled up, me with my new hair and my new silk shirt that looking back, was not so cute after all.

As we were huddled in one of our dance circles; you know those right? They are almost unable to be broken, there is an invisible force field full of girl vibes, boys not allowed in these dance circles. If you try to break into this circle, you inevitably will be thrown backwards by one of us doing the booty shake or something like that, I forget. Anyway, in the midst of our dance circle and me being the somber...'oh I'm so sad, I just broke up with my boyfriend who turned out to be a total disappointing jerk' party pooper, David happened to stumble unwillingly (or maybe willingly who knows) into our dance circle, throwing our whole vibe off.

Now this is the part where I tell you we locked eyes and fell in love right then and there and it's been a sweet deal ever since...yeah, that didn't happen. As he stumbled his way into our little dance off going on; I (upholding my sworn oath to avoid men) simply ignored his attempt and Kelli (my bestest girlfriend in the whole word) decided to reenact a spectacular version of Madonna's Like a Prayer with him. I couldn't help but laugh and then quickly turn on my 'I want nothing to do with you face on' again.

I left the bar that night not even knowing his name.

A couple weeks later Kelli and I went back to the same place, on a random night after class for some drinks. As I was walking back from the bathroom to the stool where I was sitting, I felt an arm brush mine and lucky me, it was David. He followed me back to my stool, we talked, had a few drinks, and I decided that useless conversation while we were out couldn't hurt. That night I ended up giving him my number, simply disregarding my oath, and got back in my car with Kelli to go home thinking I'd probably never hear from him.

Two weeks passed, no call.

October 15, I get a phone call and a voicemail from David; wanting to hang out. He took the whole "I'm going to wait 3 days to call the girl" move to an entirely different level. (He still laughs about it to this day. His horrible attempt at being suave.) He came out with us for Kelli's 22nd birthday that night and literally followed me/us from restaurant to bar, to bar, to bar.......

and I'm kinda glad he did. He's been following me ever since ; )

After that night, it was a whirlwind of movie dates, dinners, my birthday, Christmas, and many more of those for four years following.

So, Happy four years to the one guy I'm glad stumbled into our dance circle, performed one of the best renditions of Like a Prayer I have ever seen, kept me on my toes for four years, and has been there ever since for everything. Here's to many, many more.

Love you David <3