Josh teased a bit to Ned’s Cabin yesterday. He said, and I quote, “blah blah blah Ned’s Cabin.”
You might ask yourself, who is this Ned, and why do I have to stay in his cabin?
I’ll tell you who Ned is. Ned is NOT IMPORTANT and stop asking, you nosy so-and-sos. Ned is a man, just a man with a cabin, and we are renting that cabin, and you are staying in that cabin, and that is the end of the discussion.
If you must have more information, our parents have rented this cabin called Clear Lake Point which we call Ned’s Cabin, right across Clear Lake from where the wedding ceremony will be held. The house sleeps fifty people comfortably, or 19 in beds. It’s enormous, and it has often been called “The Graceland of the Upper Midwest” because of its numerous bowling alleys and the solid gold chandelier that hangs in the Honeymoon suite above the revolving bed.
Some of you may not know this, but being in our wedding party is a Huge Pain in the Ass*, (and splendidly large hats are NOT cheap) so we thought, what better way to say thank you than to treat you to a big cabin in the woods with kayaks and paddleboats and canoes and warm water and loons so that if you have the time, you can have a little mini-vacation before you have to stand there in your mint green tuxes before God and everyone and commit to being our friends forever. Josh and I hope this will tempt some of you to come out as early as Wednesday before the wedding to enjoy Hayward and all that it has to offer, namely, loons. There are enough real beds to sleep everyone comfortably and a huge kitchen and satellite tv and pizza delivery options available. There is a pool table and a fire pit and even a piano for sing-a-longs of “We’re in Business.” It is ten minutes from the original Famous Daves. Frankly, I would go there right now if I didn’t think my bosses would frown upon it.
Please come join us at Ned's, oh party of ours. We hope it will in some way offset the choreographed number you’ll be doing to “We’ve Got Tonight” after the ceremony. We hope.
*See: What do you think of this dress? Really? You don't think it's too slutty? Do I look fat in it? You'd tell me if I looked fat in it, right? Maybe we should try on some more dresses. What are you doing this weekend?
Friday, September 7, 2007
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Wayward in Hayward
This blogging thing is complicated. For one thing, you are supposed to do it more than once a month, apparently, so that people don't forget about your blog! But who has the time? Some of us have jobs, people!
Also, our URL isn't accurate anymore, as She-Bear pointed out in our last post. That renders the counter on the left inaccurate as well! Gah! Our wedding date is now moved up a week, to July 12, 2008. See, we called to book hotel blocks and discovered that apparently there is a monthlong sleepaway camp going on near Hayward, and that the campers' moms and dads had already reserved all the rooms in town for parents' weekend on the 19th. That created a huge problem, because we knew that some of our guests (my friend Pat, my brother Gabe) would want to try to meet girls at the sleepaway camp, and who needs parents interfering with yo' game, playa? Too, we figured that some of you nellie-nellies would want hotel rooms. Come on!
So, the lady and I are going to have a talk about this blog. In the meantime, though, I will tell you about OUR FABULOUS WEDDING-PLANNING TRIP, from which we have just returned.
For starters, how apropos that we should make the journey over the Labor Day weekend, because wedding planning is a lot of work. To the casual observer, this may not be apparent, because it just looks like a bunch of flipping through magazines and pointing at the things inside of them, but the casual observer doesn't understand just how many things there are to point at. Also, you are not just pointing! Some of the things in the magazines must be admired, some must be mocked, and some must be torn out and put into a binder! I am really glad I'm not in charge of that last bit, because whenever I tear something out to store in a binder, I end up with a binder full of stuff that I never look at again, which ends up getting stored in a cardboard box with a bunch of other binders full of stuff I've never looked at again. The box keeps getting bigger and bigger, and frankly, it's getting too heavy and real old at this point. When I started this system back in college, I was pretty sure I'd have an attic soon where I could leave the box until I died, after which my kids would go through it, thinking it was all really important to me. That was so long ago. I am 31 now, and there is still no goddamn attic in my future. We don't have attics in New York. That would be preposterous. Please, please, let this wedding happen soon and then let me write a best-selling novel and then let us move back to the Midwest or somewhere with attics. PLEASE.
Anyway. Here are some highlights of the trip:
Ned's cabin. Our wedding party will be staying here next summer, and man, are you guys in for a treat. This place is enormous and has a pool table, a boating area, and, yes, a hot chicks room. Perfect for those of our friends who are into "the lifestyle," which is all of them.
The McCormick House. This is where the reception will be, and this joint is so stylin' that when you see it, you are not going to believe you're in Hayward, Wisconsin. You will probably think it's Eau Claire, perhaps Madison. One word, people: topiary. And one more word: reflecting pool.
Dragonfly! No joke, we were out on the dock and this dragonfly came and sat on my shirt for, like, an hour, until I had to forcibly remove him. We're pretty sure he was ancient and about to die, and just wanted to spend his last few minutes with a man society press has dubbed "god of the dragonflies—and the kitchen." He got me instead, but I don't think he knew the difference.
There is more, but I can already tell that this is going to be one of those posts that Kelly just shakes her head at. I will be back tomorrow, with a more composed manner, better things to say, and entirely better ways of saying them. Thanks for understanding—this wedding stuff just wipes you out.
Also, our URL isn't accurate anymore, as She-Bear pointed out in our last post. That renders the counter on the left inaccurate as well! Gah! Our wedding date is now moved up a week, to July 12, 2008. See, we called to book hotel blocks and discovered that apparently there is a monthlong sleepaway camp going on near Hayward, and that the campers' moms and dads had already reserved all the rooms in town for parents' weekend on the 19th. That created a huge problem, because we knew that some of our guests (my friend Pat, my brother Gabe) would want to try to meet girls at the sleepaway camp, and who needs parents interfering with yo' game, playa? Too, we figured that some of you nellie-nellies would want hotel rooms. Come on!
So, the lady and I are going to have a talk about this blog. In the meantime, though, I will tell you about OUR FABULOUS WEDDING-PLANNING TRIP, from which we have just returned.
For starters, how apropos that we should make the journey over the Labor Day weekend, because wedding planning is a lot of work. To the casual observer, this may not be apparent, because it just looks like a bunch of flipping through magazines and pointing at the things inside of them, but the casual observer doesn't understand just how many things there are to point at. Also, you are not just pointing! Some of the things in the magazines must be admired, some must be mocked, and some must be torn out and put into a binder! I am really glad I'm not in charge of that last bit, because whenever I tear something out to store in a binder, I end up with a binder full of stuff that I never look at again, which ends up getting stored in a cardboard box with a bunch of other binders full of stuff I've never looked at again. The box keeps getting bigger and bigger, and frankly, it's getting too heavy and real old at this point. When I started this system back in college, I was pretty sure I'd have an attic soon where I could leave the box until I died, after which my kids would go through it, thinking it was all really important to me. That was so long ago. I am 31 now, and there is still no goddamn attic in my future. We don't have attics in New York. That would be preposterous. Please, please, let this wedding happen soon and then let me write a best-selling novel and then let us move back to the Midwest or somewhere with attics. PLEASE.
Anyway. Here are some highlights of the trip:
Ned's cabin. Our wedding party will be staying here next summer, and man, are you guys in for a treat. This place is enormous and has a pool table, a boating area, and, yes, a hot chicks room. Perfect for those of our friends who are into "the lifestyle," which is all of them.
The McCormick House. This is where the reception will be, and this joint is so stylin' that when you see it, you are not going to believe you're in Hayward, Wisconsin. You will probably think it's Eau Claire, perhaps Madison. One word, people: topiary. And one more word: reflecting pool.
Dragonfly! No joke, we were out on the dock and this dragonfly came and sat on my shirt for, like, an hour, until I had to forcibly remove him. We're pretty sure he was ancient and about to die, and just wanted to spend his last few minutes with a man society press has dubbed "god of the dragonflies—and the kitchen." He got me instead, but I don't think he knew the difference.
There is more, but I can already tell that this is going to be one of those posts that Kelly just shakes her head at. I will be back tomorrow, with a more composed manner, better things to say, and entirely better ways of saying them. Thanks for understanding—this wedding stuff just wipes you out.
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