Here’s to Sparkle Motion

Or, “How to Go on a Trip and Come Back Engaged.”

Bossyboots and I had been discussing marriage since about the second week of dating. If we would have had our act together the first time, we’d be married with six kids right now.

Or two. Two kids sounds much better to my uterus. And my tolerable auditory threshold.

Anyway. We started talking about marriage for serious when we hit twelve months of dating. I was definitely ready to actually “put a ring on it” before he was. I’ve done the long-term dating-that-turns-into-disaster thing already. For me, dating for bookoo years before commitment was not acceptable. I knew who I wanted to smooch until the end of time, and that smoochee was Bossyboots.

And so ensued six months of talking and talking and more talking. With a little ring shopping thrown in here and there.

Finally, we were at Christmas 2010. I had just returned from visiting my family for the holiday, and Bossyboots and I were out to dinner after he picked me up from the airport. We were supposed to have a lovely convo about the engagement rings we’d been checking out. Instead we proceeded to have the most ridiculous argument of all time. Cue crying behind the locked, bathroom door please. (with Bossyboots trying to get me to let him in. Um no – how can I make you feel bad for making me cry unless I torture you? Exactly.)

I’m not gonna lie, up until our huge argument, a teeny part of me thought that maybe Bossyboots was planning to propose over New Year’s. We had a weekend NYE trip planned to our favorite tiny Illinois town, at our favorite bed and breakfast. It’d be perfect, no? Alas, I knew that argument boded no good in the bling department.

SO, I let my little engagement hope die a dramatic death, and we set off in Bossyboots’ car for Galena the next day. No more tears.

After three hours on the icy road, we finally hit Galena – it’s admittedly totally for people who like to knit cat scarves, but we love its little tchotchke self anyway.

We spent a couple days there, visiting President Grant’s home…

Shopping...

And burning our faces off with hot sauce:

With all that walking around, we took a break with a cappucino or five (you know, so that we could subsequently induce a racing heart attack.)

Finally, it was time for our lovely New Year’s Eve dinner, which was delicioso.

Afterwards, it was about 9p, and we headed back to our room at the bed and breakfast.

This is where things got ridiculous.

So, we bundle into our room, and I find that Bossyboots and I have very different ideas about what we’re supposed to do on New Year’s Eve. Suffice to say, I wanted a fun New Year’s Eve, and Bossyboots wanted to watch Dick Clark’s Rocking New Year’s Show on TV.

I have been working on my compromising skillz, so I decided to be nice and go along with Bossyboot’s boring TV plans. We even played Clue. CLUE, people. I love Clue as much as the next lady, but… not on a national party day.

At 11p, Dick Clark decided it was time to go to bed – thank you, Jesus. I thought this meant I was free from crochet time on the couch. Nope. Bossyboots decided we need to watch the repeat because the first airing was not in our time zone.

OK, I will pause while you read the previous paragraph again, because really, it was too ridiculous to be believed. Bossyboots was turning 93 before my eyes.

Again, I summoned my skills of compassion (I had graduated from compromise to full-on compassion.) And we sat there and watched the repeat – every single second – until Bossyboots broke out the champagne at 11:45p!

He poured us both a flute o’ fancy bubbly, and at midnight we got all teary-eyed with the “I love you” and the “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me”. I knew things were getting weird when Bossyboots stood up and started acting really nervous and telling me he had a present for me. I didn’t put things together until the ring box (ohmigod) made its appearance, and that man was on one knee.

Much smooching, tears, hugs and phone calls ensued. He promises never to make me watch that Dick Clark show ever again.

Here’s a photo of us at about 3a, when the ruckus had all died down and we had alerted all of the appropriate friends and family members. Don’t judge our bedraggled appearance – I had been watching Dick Clark for three hours on repeat – you’d look a hot mess, too.

When Bossy Met Snappy…

…he was really scared.

Just kidding. He was only mostly scared – not all the way scared. There's a distinct difference between mostly and all-the-way, right college freshmen? ;)

I met Bossyboots a very, verrrrrry long time ago, back when we were chumps at a local (yet national!) theater here in Chicago. I was the fresh out of college Stage Management intern; he was the seasoned lighting tech. He showed me around the theater, swooped me off my feet, and we lived happily ever after.

OK that's a lie, too.

Bossyboots tells me that he spent our summer together with a raging crush on me. However, he neglected to clue me in to this fact. Consequently, there was a distinct lack of smooching. He says he even took me out on a date… a fact he neglected to explain. We went to a free show (as friends, I thought!), hung out on the free pier, and went to our respective homes sans romantic interlude. I don't think I am the only woman out there that assumes that if the guy offers to pay for you, that means it's a date – if he doesn't = not a date. Of course, the reality that our evening consisted of completely free activities requiring zero dollars has no bearing on this assumption. Nor the fact that I am generally clueless about these sorts of things. I was raised in a conservative home – I didn't go on a date 'til I was 18. Boys scared me; what can I say?

Anyway, the end of summer 2001 arrived. Bossyboots and I both moved on to greener career pastures.

Then, in 2008, I was walking the halls of my current employer to grab coffee from the dadgum [it's broken again] coffeemaker, and who should I spy? A tall, blonde drink of water, that's who. Out of all the companies in Chicago, Bossyboots decided to move on into mine!

We were both dating other people [while I was writing for a little site called (cough) WeddingBee], so nothing inappropriate was going to happen. Polite hellos were exchanged, but that's about it. However, the moment my Facebook status went "single" after I called off my wedding… that man was hitting me up on Facebook every week. Nothing too forward, but he was definitely making his presence known. He says that his heart dropped when he saw that I was engaged, so he "wasn't dropping the ball again", now that we had a second chance.

I wasn't ready to date right away, obviously, but when July hit, I let Bossyboots know it would be okay if he – you know – wanted to go out for a milkshake. Which he did. And we subsequently stayed out until 4:30am.

Date #2 – Out until 4a

Date #3 – Out until 6:30a

Date #4 – Out until midnight (a girl's gotta get SOME sleep – I'm not 22 anymore)

For the record, these were all PG-rated dates. P to the G, Mother!

At that point, we were both smitten, and the rest is the beginning of a great story. I still find him ultra-smoochable, and we still stay out until the wee hours, on occasion. Lack of sleep keeps you young… I read that in a book somewhere.

My Jimmy Choos Better Pack a Suitcase…

…Because Snapdragon and Bossyboots have a wedding date!

We had just a few hoops to jump through, namely, choosing a state in which to declare our undying love. "Undying", people, that's how serious our love is.

I'm nothing if not both acerbic and dramatic. It gets annoying – ask Bossyboots.

We had two realistic choices when it came to wedding locations: Option A) Chicago or Option B) Dallas/Fort Worth. Deep dish pizza or 8-hour brisket? Bell's or Shiner? Sauerkraut or habaneros? Bears or Cowboys?* 773 or 214? It's a tough decision, believe you me, and we went through the wringer.

Bossyboots grew up in Chicago, and though I'm a Texan transplant, I've lived "up north" for the last fourteen years. (That's fourteen. Motherloving. Winters. Thank you, Winter in Chicago.) Most of Bossyboots' family and friends live here, and most of my closest friend are Chicagoans. However, my family all lives down in Texas. My really, really big family. And since most of them are disabled… getting my family on a plane is not happening. You hear that? Unequivocally not happening. One of my sisters is the bionic woman, with a steel backbone. Etc etc. It's not happening – not by train, not by plane, nor by automobile.

So, then Bossyboots and I were faced with a decision – we could hold the wedding up here in Chicago, where his family and most of our friends would surely attend… but only half of my family would make it. OR we could throw our Celebration of Undying Love down in Texas, where our families could both be there, in their entirety – but fewer of our friends could make it, most likely. In our minds, immediate family members missing this particular shindig because they are disabled is a locale dealbreaker. I want my family there – all of them - so officially...

(Unknown artist illustration, modified by me)

We've just wrapped up several months of WEDDING STUFF – all of which I will surely share. Stay tuned, friends…

*I'm a Cowboys fan 'til I die, minus the convict years – don't tell Bossyboots.

Angry Days, Happy Days

The angry days. Anyone who's ever been in a romantic relationship of over a year knows what I mean - the days when you and your partner kind of want to send each other on a special vacation. By themselves:

Fighting used to feel like a bad sign to me. Like an omen that my relationship was doomed. Bossyboots and I rarely fight, but it does happen (because we're normal!)

Last year, I read the novel Freedom, by Jonathan Franzen. There were about 8,000 things in that book that were amazing, but one scene really hit home to me. There's a section where a mother is questioning her son about his relationship with his girlfriend. She asks (paraphrased) "Do you guys fight?" She goes on to explain that if they never fight, that means they aren't being real with each other; they're living in fantasy land. Being real and genuine means fighting sometimes.

That idea stuck with me, and I love it. Often, I think some of us don't say what we really feel (expressed with love!) Sometimes my efforts to be respectful of others' opinions/feelings means I overly squelch my own. And I know I want to know what my partner really wants - I don't need him to agree with me on everything. If Bossyboots and I agreed on everything... how would we grow? Part of why I believe in marriage isn't just for the cuddles, legal benefits, or tax breaks - it's because a valuable partnership is challenging.

Obviously the kind of fighting that involves name-calling or craziness is no bueno, and it's not good to always be fighting, but... a reasonable amount of fighting is nothing to be afraid of. In fact, maybe it's a good thing. It means we love each other for who we really are.

*All photos are personal

A Snappy Drive-by

Hi, Bees! The last time you heard from me, I wrote about starting over after calling it all off. I wrote about how the best days of your life are ahead of you when you walk away from a dysfunctional relationship that's no longer working for you. In that post, I also wrote about how I was SO excited to go on my first date with a new guy that I found super smoochable. Well, guess what? After a summer of dates where we stayed out until the sun came up, I knew I'd found Mr. Right. Summer turned into fall, which turned into winter... and months more of falling deeply in love. He went from my date to my boyfriend to....

...my brand spankin' new fiance!

I'm totally going to have 10,000 of his babies. :)

We have no idea whether we'll be throwing a full-on wedding or taking a trip to the courthouse, but as my best internet gals... I wanted to clue you all in to the good news.

I know there are those of you out there that have gone through divorce or called off a wedding, and I'm here to tell you that calling off my wedding was the BEST thing that I've ever gone through. Painful? Yes, to the point of excruciating. Valuable and completely necessary? Priceless. Life gets better. The Universe - and my gut instinct - saved me from making the worst mistake of my life, so that I could receive a priceless gift: true love.

On my personal blog, I call my fiance Bossyboots... because he is the opposite of a bossy boots (see what I did there? Irony!) So many people already know him as Bossyboots, it'd be weird for me to change it, so... that's what I'll be calling him here. His internet nickname has become so deeply attached to that guy, I don't think I could call him anything else. :) Ms. Snapdragon and Bossyboots, together forever - if you want to be cheesy about it. Which I do. Because I am cheesy, and I've learned to accept that about myself.

Once we figure out the wedding situation, I'll be right back here, dusting off my bedazzler and Hive-ing it up with you ladies! Until then, many smooches and much love.

Also, sparkles:

Love,

Snappy

*All photos are personal!

A Travel Journal of Your Very Own

I am a HUGE proponent of travel journals. I have been on a few significant trips in my life: Europe with my Dad and Tweets, Hawaii with an old boytoy, and most recently: my Sistamoon. On each, I kept a travel journal. At the end of every day, I took ten minutes to write down everything that happened that day. Vacations go by SO fast - it's easy to forget all of the details... I am so happy to have those travel journals to look back on and remember all of the fun moments.

SO, of course this meant I had to prepare a travel journal for the Sistamoon. I promptly referred to my fave craft book...(this is seriously the best book ever!)

Trusty Esther had a travel journal tutorial... SCORE! Creating this journal was a lot of work, but I knew this was a special trip, so I wanted a special kind of journal - all the work was well worth it. Let's get started!

You'll need:

• An awl
• Drafting paper (I find this is the easiest paper to work with when folding and measuring book signatures)
• Bookbinding thread
• Bookbinding needles
• Scissors
• Bone folder
• Papercutter
• Envelopes
• Coverstock for the front covers and the accordian binding
• A phone book or something thick and nonimportant for "awling" on
• Optional: Chipboard for the covers, in case you want something sturdier than coverstock

*I found all of my materials at Blick art stores.

Here is the finished product... This is an accordion bound book, which allows the user to stash all manner of paper ephemera/souvenirs from your trip! For me, I would be visiting eight different ports, so I wanted to create eight different sections to my journal. Each section featured a signature made out of drafting paper for writing, an envelope to hold my Metro tickets/paper remembrances, and a map of any given port. I created a map to glue onto the front cover, and elastic straps to hold the journal shut. This was my first homemade travel journal, so I learned many things I will do differently next time! See below for things YOU should do differently from me - learn from my mistakes, sister!

*Many apologies for the pictures - I had to use my flash because I had no natural light! No judging! All photos mine.

First, I created the paper part of the eight signatures I needed to create.

Then I took my envelopes and prepared them for binding into the signatures. I bought eight envelopes - one for each signature. I measured the envelopes before folding to figure out where I'd need to sew (so they didn't stick out too far.)

I gathered maps for each of our eight ports and prepped them for inclusion in the signatures. Again - measuring to make sure they didn't stick out further than the paper in my signatures. I just printed off most of my maps from the internet.

Next, I lined up my signatures and prepared to use my awl to punch holes for binding. I ordered my signatures like this: paper on the outermost layer, then the envelope, with the map on the innermost layer. I had eight signatures, so I had to repeat the awling process eight times. I measured for the three holes I needed to create: 1 hole in the middle, 1 a half inch from the top, and 1 hole a half inch from the bottom. Make sure you put something thick like a phone book under the signatures as you awl (!) That awl will cut you or ruin your countertop if you don't!!

After that, I prepped the binding cover. I selected a prettypants coverstock and folded the paper into 1" folds. I had eight signatures, so to include the covers, I needed ten "troughs." Again, use that bone folder!

Then I was ready to sew my signatures to the binding! I strung bookbinding thread onto my needle and essentially sewed a figure eight. After lining up the signature to the binding, The needle/thread runs from the signature into the binding in the middle hole first (leaving a tail), then back up through the topmost hole, back down the middle hole, up the bottom hole, then box knot to the tail you left from your first stitch. (Google box knot!) Repeat eight times! You may need a beer on hand for this part. I'm just sayin'.

This is what the binding looks like on the outside - perty, huh?

Now, on to the covers! The art store couldn't cut my chip board for me because it was too thick. He assured me I could successfully cut the board myself with an Exacto knife. Um yeah. I thought my homemade cutting looked jankity. If I had it to do over again, I'd cover the chipboard in pretty fabric or paper to cover the mistakes. They would have looked more finished that way. :/

I affixed my map I drew to the front cover and punched holes in the back to string the elastic through.

Voila!

Have you ever made your own book for a special occasion? What are your best tips?

A Bee's Life: Snappy Style

Hi, Bees! When Pengalicious brought up the idea of a series talking about blogging a la WeddingBee, I was so excited. As several other Bees have written... WeddingBee can be a lifechanger.

Let me start at the beginning.

Way back in October 2008, I had just started to plan my wedding and felt a bit overwhelmed. My family lives in Texas; I live in Chicago... Out of necessity, I was planning this shindig largely on my own and I didn't know where to start. Several of my friends had recently wed, and unanimously, they all said "You HAVE to read WeddingBee, it's the best." One of my friends said it was the only wedding blog she read because the others were so negative and intimidating for an average, normal bride with an average budget.

Well, I took their advice, and I. Was. Addicted. As we all know, once you discover the 'Bee, that browser refresh button gets a lot of use. All of the bloggers were so entertaining and had their own personality. Some were great at DIY, some were so insightful, some were downright hilarious. I loved it! I was SO hooked, that I decided to see if I could become a Bee myself...

I started a blog for - let's face it - the sole purpose of becoming a Bee. In my day job, I do a ton of writing, and I wanted to learn how to write for an audience, as well as document my journey to wedded bliss. I was looking for a supportive community, and I found it! I had no idea how important this support would become. Dun Dun Dunnnnn ;)

So I started my lil Blogger account and wrote for two weeks. My close girlyfriends were the only ones who had my blog address. I told no one that I was applying to WeddingBee. I sent in my application to Mrs. Bee, and waited with bated breath. Seriously, I sucked it in everytime I checked my email.

FINALLY, (I really only had to wait a few days, but it felt like an eternity!) I received an email from BEE@ weddingbee.com. She wrote that while they liked what they read, that they wanted to see more. That of course meant that I wrote every day for the next ten days! On the tenth day, I was ensconced in the deepest of deep woods in Northern Wisconsin on a business trip. My email barely worked. I was only able to check my email once every few days.

I called my fiance and asked him to check my email and see if Bee or Pengy had written me while I was away... AND THEY HAD! They asked me to join the Hive as a blogger. I was thrilled, covered in bug spray and sweat in the crappiest hotel you've ever seen. (Seriously, WHO doesn't have internet!?) My fiance had to write Pengy on my behalf and explain that I was out-of-pocket but I definitely wanted to be a Bee and would write the second I got back into civilization.

Picking Snapdragon as my moniker was a no-brainer. I mean, duh. As I have said before... Snappy, Snappin', Snapilicious, Snap, SnoopinSnap... like the actual Snapdragon flower: endless entertainment!

Over the next few months, I learned so much about blogging. Seriously, for a newbie blogger, WeddingBee is the best place to cut your teeth. Mrs. Bee and Pengy are experts, so when you blog here, you learn from the best. (I am not kissing their ultra-fine booties saying that - it's just true.) I learned what material works best, how to communicate via web, how create a steady flow of content.

I also got to know so many of you and the other blogger Bees. I had never been a part of an internet community that was so free of Ego. Snark? What is that? People were just normal - the way I imagine they are in their real life. Every blogger Bee I've met is exactly the way they seem in their blog entries. Friendly, thoughtful, ultra-creative, and the funniest ladies you've ever met. Truly.

Then, in February... I found out that my fiance was unfaithful on a Wednesday, and I called my wedding off that Friday. For the three days inbetween, my parents, my sisters, my best friend, and the Bees were the only ones who knew what was going on via email. The outpouring of support and emergency advice were what kept me going when my world was falling apart. I was in the Emotional Emergency Room, yo!

So to say WeddingBee was a lifechanger for me is no exaggeration. On the surface, my lack of privacy when it came to my breakup was difficult... in the end, it was healing. I couldn't be ashamed, and I had no reason to be.

Sometimes I think of how WeddingBee has affected me - I can tell you I will never look at wedding details in the same way again (those suckers are a lot of work!) They have also created a love in me for all things wedding and blogging. There's a reason most Bees continue blogging long after they wed, including me. Having been a part of such an incredible community, how could I leave? Blogworld is awesome! :)

Advice for new bloggers:
The first thing I learned as a blogger... a blog is not a personal diary. There is a fine line between telling the truth and spilling your guts. Life isn't perfect, and sometimes bad things need addressing (like why I wouldn't be posting anymore doily-folding tutorials!) Using a blog as therapy is almost always a bad idea. When blogging, ask yourself, does anyone else want to read this? Is this self-serving or helpful? It's a good reality check! And remember, once something goes on the internet.... good luck erasing it!

My other piece of advice is to have integrity. In blogland - and ESPECIALLY in wedding blogland - you may feel a great deal of pressure to lead a lifestyle that is fascinating or a wedding that is "incredible." Don't let other people determine the sort of wedding - or life - that you will lead. Be yourself always. People can tell when you're faking it... and why would you want to? You're pretty great just the way you are!

That's blogging the way that I see it - XOXO