Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Dance Lesson #3 etc...

We arrive. The front door is locked. Jeremy says, "Oh, darn, guess we have to go home now", and proceeds to sprint towards the car. "No, Jeremy, we can wait a few minutes for him to arrive", I respond. My comment is then followed up by several expletives from his mouth.

We wait, he arrives. Once again, he asks us to start at the beginning and do what we learned last time. This time we made a significant improvement. We remembered about 15% of what we had learned as opposed to last sessions' 5%. We start the dance, I look at Jeremy and he looks a bit strange but I ignore it. Nothing out of the ordinary. I hear a scream from behind, the instructor shouts, "JEREMY - PUT YOUR TONGUE BACK IN YOUR MOUTH, YOU LOOK LIKE A DOG". Oh yea, he was dancing with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. The instructor informed us that this is a common reaction for men when they are thinking hard. And clearly, dancing, for us, requires a lot of thought. I have to say, I concentrate harder in dance classes than at work. So, if, on Saturday you notice Jeremy with his tongue hanging out of his mouth while dancing, feel free to shout and remind him that he looks like his daughter.

Towards the end the instructor reminded us that dance is just not for everyone. Comforting, eh. And that as long as we held it together and did not break down laughing (like we have every single time we have tried it in practice), we should be okay. Chances of this happening, slim to none.

In other news, in case you hadn't heard, we are getting married on Saturday! I know, shocking. Never fear, I found an outfit for the rehearsal dinner. I know you were all so concerned. Seriously, what do you wear to your own rehearsal dinner - when it is at Fuddrucker's?!?!? That is pretty much the impossible situation to dress.

When I get nervous/anxious, I bake. My office currently adores me. Little do they know it will soon end.

Now this is a bit PG-13 rated, so if you're queasy or do not have a dog, I don't recommend you read this section. Punky has a little problem. We hired an in home dog trainer to assist us, consulted her veterinarian several times, read countless articles, but nothing will stop her - - poop eating. She just does it, we can't help it. At home, we know how to handle it, and get her inside and clean it up right away. However, last Friday she went to daycare per usual. Apparently they had a new employee who wasn't as 'quick'. When she wasn't looking, and another dog went #2, punky would grab the poo and hide it under the slide. Then, again when they were not looking she would take out 'snacks' as she saw fit and ate all through the day. My dog is a genius. Later in the day, when they cleaned up, they moved the slide and found Punky's stash of poo and realized what she had been doing. When I picked her up, they had articles and information for me about problems like hers. However, there is really no solution. I have a disgusting, albeit adorable, but disgusting dog. So I had to stand there, and listen to them scold me about my fecal consuming dog. And they scolded me, like it was something she learned from me! Silly people, clearly it's something she learned from her father, not her mother.

Friday, March 27, 2009

A team member, is a team member.

This is a favorite phrase of a certain soon-to-be husband of mine. He works for the fine red and khaki, Target. We love Target. In fact, I don't actually think I could live without it. I love just about everything about it - okay, now come to think of it - I can't think of anything I don't love. But there is that one little thing...the perception that Target employees work so hard. ECHEM... JEREMY! As we are getting ready this morning Jeremy off-handedly mentions to me, after what has been a very 'stressful' week, "Have you ever heard of Bunko?" I respond, "Well my boss calls it 'Drunko' and says the ladies in her neighborhood like to play, but otherwise no, I don't know what it is". "Why?" I asked. "Well, because you won't be able to get ahold of me this afternoon, we're playing Bunko all afternoon." WORKING HARD EH????? Bunko!?!?!? I will be slaving away yelling at stupid tenants, hiding out from annoying vendors, and avoiding the financial statements that I do not want to review while you play Bunko?!?!? Target is a very stressful place to work as you can see. Saving the world, one plus sized bathing suit at a time.
(But seriously Target, thanks for the paycheck - we do love you)

Now I'm getting stressed and it is showing in my sleeping patterns. Last night, I apparently woke Jeremy up in the middle of the night and asked him to "Roll over on you back so I can give you a back rub". A. That makes no sense B. It was 1:30 in the morning C. If you know me, you know the last thing I'm going to do at 1:30 in the morning is be nice.

Things I am worried about (note their trivial nature and yet, these are the things that are concerning to me, so just deal with it)
1. I do not yet have a travel outfit for our 21 hour flight to Thailand. This really stressing me out. I never said they were logical, I just said they were stressors.

2. I have decided I do not like my top for the rehearsal dinner and need to find something else.

3. I am worried DQ will not show up for the wedding. There is no reason for me to believe they won't. Again, I did not say these were rational concerns.

4. I had a nightmare that the rabbi forgot it was a wedding and broke out into repetitions of 'Hallelujah'. FYI: if you are not Jewish, neither Jewish weddings nor religious services include loud repetitions of Hallelujah.

5. I am stressed about people being late to things - this is not something I can control so I therefore have decided to ignore this one and focus on things I can, such as a travel outfit.

6. I need all bridesmaids to get along. Critical.

7. I have the fillet o fish song stuck in my head. Not helping.
Gimme back that fillet-o-fish
Gimme that fish
Gimme back that fillet-o-fish
Gimme that fish
What if it was you
hanging up on this wall?
If you were in that sandwich
you wouldn’t be laughing at all!

8. At least it's keeping my mind off the travel outfit.

9. I want to be sitting in my snuggie right now.

Okay, so there are my worries, concerns, and random ruminations.

We met with the Westin yesterday and Jeremy worked his Hotel-ey charm and conned the Westin out of an extra night in the suite so he's staying in the honeymoon suite Friday AND Saturday night.

Gimme back that fillet o fish......help me now.

Monday, March 23, 2009

Snuggies and dancing - a magical combination

We have had two major events in the wedding process.

#1. The first and second best wedding gifts have arrived. The first was Dannon Shiff's gift of matching snuggies. Now, you may know that I have a great affinity for the snuggie and its ad campaign and am thrilled to now be a member of the elite club of snuggie owners. The second best gift came from Wellington, my office. My very creative boss knew how excited I was to receive gift #1 as I was talking everyone's ears off about it at work on Friday. Therefore, she created gift #2 for me.

A SNUGGIE FOR PUNKY! Connie, my boss, thought Punky might feel left out if her mom and dad had snuggies but she did not - SO - she custom made a snuggie for punky - tail hole and all!!!!! Seriously, amazing! I am still laughing!

#2. Dance Lesson #2. I will recount as before:

Dance lesson is at 4:00pm
Kara at 3:00pm: Jeremy, I need to tell you something, I really don't want to go to dance class. Like, I really, really don't want to go. This is like the feeling of sitting in my mom's car crying because I didn't want to go to Hebrew School.
Jeremy: I DONT WANT TO GO EITHER. This is like the feeling of going to tennis lessons and sitting in my mom's car crying because I really didn't want to go.

We proceeded to spend the next 20 minutes whining about how we did not want to go, but had to. This first dance is absolutely the worst part about getting married.

We enter 'dance school' for the second time. This time, possibly more awkward than the first. There is a woman and a man who are on the dance floor, throwing each other around, twirling, and spinning like pros. I stare at my feet. Jeremy stares at the clock. Tick, tock, tick, tock.

The teacher approaches and says, well, should we go through what we learned last week? Jeremy looks at me, I look at Jeremy, we have blank stares on our face, as though the man has just recounted a story to us in Thai. What we learned last week? What we practiced? Uh.....yea, we don't remember what we learned and we did not practice once.

We proceed to re-learn what we were taught the class before, while accompanied by the dancing duo straight off of Dancing with the Stars next to us. They soon leave the 'dance floor' and sit down. Now, if you know me, and have read my blog, you know that I don't have the best attention span. These two, which I assumed were couple sit down on a sofa next to the dance floor (yes, there are strange sofas all around the room). The woman picks up a baby that had been sitting in a car seat and starts nursing her, right there. The man keeps talking to her, then stands up and leaves. Two other men enter and sit with her as she nurses her baby. When she is done, she hands the child to one man, who hands it to the other one, and they hold it for the remainder of the hour. I don't know who the father was, nor what the situation was, and frankly, to your average person it wouldn't matter at all, but it was all I could think about.

The teacher says: "Kara, were you listening? Do that turn now"
I proceed to walk in a circle. Jeremy and the teacher look at me with this look of, "where has your brain been for the last 5 minutes?, look". Clearly, while they were planning out turns, I was trying to figure out who was the baby daddy. I have no clue about turns.

That was about the class in short. Teacher tries talking to me, I'm making a mental list of the things I have left to do. Jeremy looks at the clock. Kara tries to lead while dancing. Jeremy looks at the clock and recounts that we have 37 minutes remaining. Kara almost falls on her butt. Jeremy starts laughing uncontrollably. Teacher stops us as he thinks that Jeremy made me cry. In reality, Jeremy made me laugh so hard I'm literally on the floor crying. Jeremy looks at the clock, 23 minutes remaining.

Dance class #2, check. Guaranteed: I will have another nervous breakdown before classes #3 and #4.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Life and stuff

Sorry I've been a slow blogger this week, uh, life - a little busy. Here are some updates in bullet form.

-- You will all hate me, my mom, dad and sister will hate me the most. I've decided to tan for the wedding. Not tan like I want to be a bronze beauty, but tan like I don't want to be BLUE anymore. I am not even white, I'm blue. It's a whole new skin color. Surveys should read...Please check your racial background
1. Caucasian
2. African American
3. Asian
4. Native American
5. So friggin pale, you're blue
That's why I'm doing it. I literally do it for 4 minutes at a time, I just want to be pale instead of blue. I'm sorry. I'll never do it again after these 2 weeks.

-- When I'm stressed, I bake. It's just what I do. Jeremy's office, Debra and various other people are quite enjoying this outlet for my stress. I may be the reason why the rest of our friends and family gain 10 pounds. Sorry. But at least they'll enjoy themselves while doing it. That means 2 more weeks of mad baking - put in your orders people......

-- Debra and Rachel have left me to go to Africa and save children. Ridiculous. Just when I need them. How selfish. Last weekend Debra and I went for Tea at the St. Paul hotel, it was awesome, and we made a list of what I have left to do - quite manageable.

-- My car is starting to look like a bridal shop/locker room/bakery. It's not normal.

-- People really need to RSVP for this wedding, ridiculous. That's not normal either.

-- Target had a wedding shower for us on Wednesday - it was too sweet. It was a banana bread party - couldn't have been any nicer. And even nicer, we're $130 closer to a new sofa. Wooo hooooo

-- Punky's fur is growing back from her stab wound. Maybe by the time of the wedding there will be no evidence of the 'incident'.

-- I'm trying really hard to be careful not to injure myself these next few weeks. I have a tendency to be clumsy and feel like I'm going to fall on my shoulder and get a big bruise, or cut my arm in my sleep. You never know, I do strange things.

I'll end with a poem since you all liked my last one: (or you lied to my face)

Two weeks until the big day
And then we will run away

A day filled with laughter and fun
I am not looking forward to it being done

DQ, photos, speeches and more
Then Jeremy and I will tear up the dance floor

People are coming from near and far
Make sure you drink during the first hour of the bar
(now this doesn't rhyme...but that hour's free ...the Westin Pays....drink then)

We love you all like crazy
By the end it will all be hazy

We'll board a plane
leave the puppy behind
And come home with a brand new name

Much love,

Monday, March 16, 2009

I have a disease

And it's called shpilkis. Okay, so technically it's called ADHD, but to my family, its called shpilkis. The definition of this condition is as follows: The inability to remain still, leave objects in their rightful place, or stop moving. The uncontrollable propensity towards touching everything, playing with everything and listening to 4 conversations at once. This is my disease. It is something I have lived with my whole life, and something I have learned to cope with.

School: While others sat quietly in their chairs listening to the teacher, or talking to their classmate, I was doing something else. I was balancing a pencil on its eraser, while listening to the weekend plans of the people behind me, analyzing the typeface of the alphabet that lined the room and simultaneously listening to the teacher.

Everyday life: While my family is eating dinner, or enjoying polite conversation - I am twirling chop sticks and then rubbing them together to see if they will spark, along with checking my phone and talking to Jeremy, while also listing to the conversation at the end of the table. (this was yesterday)

Work: I have 5 windows up at all times, writing a letter, talking on the phone to a tenant, checking gmail, buying shoes online, and reviewing financial statements at one time. (all while tapping my feet)

This leads us to a problem. For our honeymoon we have decided to travel to Thailand. I could not be more excited, but this trip requires that we fly there. Fly 21 hours there. Fly 21 hours in a very small chair watching Jerry Maguire on the communal movie screen, likely with soda that I had spilled on myself earlier (I also spill a lot due to lack of attention). HELP!!! Please send me book recommendations, activity books, music playlists. Skip the wedding gift, just help me stay entertained on the flight or Jeremy may not want to be married to me by the time we arrive in Thailand.

SOS - please help.

In other wedding news, I just got an email from my dad confirming the limo for the bridal party for the wedding. Turns out the name of the limo company is "Sexxxy Limo". Should we be concerned?! I can not explain how hard I will laugh if there is a pole in this limo. I love it. Sexxxy limo. Red furry seats, here we come!

Thursday, March 12, 2009


I know I'm anal retentive, okay, now you're all laughing, I'm VERY anal retentive, but when I recieve an invitation in the mail, I decide if I'm going and then send it back right away. And by right away, and I know this is a little crazy, but I am my mother's daughter, I will drive to a mailbox to put it in right away. Same with thank you notes, cards etc.... Must be out of my house ASAP.

Which leads me to my question of why people have not all responded to the wedding invitation. People we know are coming....people in our BRIDAL PARTIES! ACHEM.....(read: respond people!) If you don't respond before March 19 you will be getting food option D. What is option D you may ask? Canidae lamb variety (that's punky's food). Now punk loves it, but I've smelled a lot of Canidae lamb variety, and it is not nice smelling stuff. It does not compliment the flavors in a DQ blizzard so well. Moral of the story, respond or you're eating dog food. :-) Love you all!

In other news, I had my final dress fitting, and uh, it fits. I guess that's what you do in a fitting. It was a little depressing to see how much fabric they had to take off in the dress shortening process. I could have donated it to another little person to make a dress. That scrap of fabric they took off easily cost me $300.

In a final bit of news, I need to express my love for a new man in my life. Move over Jeremy, there's a new man in town. Martin Joseph Gelfman, Dori and Danny's son (for now). We babysat Marty last weekend, and I am seriously having a love affair with this child. He is about the cutest thing you've ever seen, and about the happiest baby I've ever met. If you know Dori and Danny, offer to babysit their child, he is pretty darn amazing. I know Brad and Emily have their eyes on another friend's baby for Tessa, but I think they're wrong - I think Tessa Frank and Marty Gelfman could be very happy together. Tessa and Marty Gelfman. They already sound a bit like an 80 year old couple. I love it. Call me a matchmaker.

That's about all for now - 3 weeks until the wedding!

Lots of love!

Monday, March 9, 2009

As requested....

Mel requested that I give a little primer on 'Jewish Wedding Etiquette'. Now, that was a nice way to say it, but it's more like, 'The strange ways Jewish people do things'. So here goes, some tips for Non-Jews attending our wedding (or Jews who have been living under a rock)
--Jewish weddings start on time, this is something I learned is not necessarily true for other religions, or maybe just other people.

--our synagogue is Reform, therefore it is not necessary to have your shoulders covered, but you will see many people who do choose to bring a sweater or wrap to cover their shoulders for modesty sake. I'm the bride and I'll be in strapless, so anything goes.

--The men will be given a kippah to wear - a head covering. If they feel uncomfortable wearing it, they don't have to, but it is encouraged. Now, my Auntie has lectured me for years about not trying on hats or wearing things that have gone on other people's heads. Never fear - these are brand new kippahs emblazoned with 'Jeremy and Kara's wedding' inside. Lice not included.

--The wedding will be inside as Minnesota Jewish weddings cannot be outside. This is not at all a religious thing, but rather, an agreement between the Minnesota Rabbis who don't want to potentially freeze their patooties off when some crazy bride decides to have a 'Winter Wonderland' wedding outside in January.

--It is customary to send a gift to the bride's parent's house rather than to bring it to the ceremony. This is not done for any religious reason, simply because Jews are practical people and don't want to schlep 17 crock pots and 5 toasters back to their houses.

--There will be a traditional Jewish dance done at the wedding called the Horah. It’s a pretty catchy tune, people grasp hands and dance in a big circle around the bride and groom. They are then lifted in chairs up and people dance around while they are in raised chairs. The bride and groom's parents are then lifted up on chairs while people dance around. At our wedding, this will be done after the meal. Why? Because when I get hungry, I get cranky. And nobody wants a cranky bride :-)

--Jewish weddings tend to be quite formal, but as far as attire don't stress. Ladies - black dressy cocktail dress, short is fine, but dressier than a sundress. Men - tux or dark suit are preferable. If they don't have one, sport coat and dark pants is fine.

--There will be no pork or shellfish - guess that limits the 'Bride and Groom's surprise' option! Though it would be quite a surprise if they brought our bacon wrapped shrimp....quite a bride and groom's surprise!

Hmmmm....Jewish friends and family...what did I miss???

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Dance, Dance Shake your Booty, Dance, Dance

Now, you don't even need to know me/us very well to know the answer to this question. If you have ever visited a dance club, bar, ridden in the car with me, been in a sorority with me, or listened to music with either one of us you know that we are severely deficient in two areas. SONG AND DANCE.

Now, if there are two more tone deaf and uncoordinated people, I'd like to meet them. (Weinblatt's excluded) Debra in particular has a great aversion to my song and dance, and truly, I don't blame her. The problem is, when I hear it in my head - it sounds quite good - I sound the same as the people on the radio. HOWEVER, I know that in fact, that is not true. I know that I clearly have a hearing problem, and I do trust those around me. I know that I take tone deaf and uncoordinated to a whole new level. What is it, right brain, left brain, whatever that musically capable portion of your brain is, and mine is clearly on lock down. Never to be used. Nope, I will wallow in the wake of the musically incapable forever.

This leads us to a problem. In case you haven't heard, Jeremy and I are getting married. We are getting married in 30 days in fact. PROBLEM! Weddings require dance. Thank g-d they don't require song or I'd be doomed to remain unmarried for the rest of my life. Dance, we can maybe try to remedy that one, maybe.

Enter - dance lessons. Jeremy and I arrive Monday evening for our dance lessons. Now I must preface that I am so bad at the aforementioned activities that even entering a dance studio made me so nervous I was shaking. We met the instructor and the word vomit began. I started telling him that I can't dance, and I can't sing, and that I can barely walk, in fact its a miracle I didn't fall on my face while walking up the steps. Jeremy gave me the, "Okay Kara, this man does not care" look and I shut up, and looked at the ground. We meekly wandered on to the faux wood 'dance floor' in the middle of an old office building. We stand there waiting, I'm not sure what we thought we were waiting for. I thought we were waiting for him to say, "1,2,3,4 - now show me your best tap dance or something". I think Jeremy was thinking, "Okay, it's now 5:35, that means we only have 55 minutes left, then we can go home, make dinner, play with the dog, oh look, now only 54 minutes left."

We wait, (I have no idea what this guy is doing but he is digging in some back room while we stand, silent on the 'dance floor'). He appears and we play him our 3 selected first dance options. Again, my eyes glued to the floor I await judgment. While I have no musical abilities, I have also avoided music at all costs and thus have little musical affinity. He seems to like all three, and we begin.

FIRST STEP: Move your feet left, then right, left then right - side to side. Easy right? I cannot seem to keep up with them and wind up looking like I am running in place. Let's move on to step two.

STEP TWO: Walk backwards while Jeremy pushes me. I barely manage to remain standing. How is this all going to work? The wedding's off. This won't work.

STEP THREE: Step back, two, three, side two three. I cannot look anywhere but the ground, and cannot talk to anyone but just have to count to myself (1,2,1,2,1,2).

You would think there would be many more complicated steps right; after all, this is the first of four hour long sessions. Nope, that took us an hour. Jeremy did fairly well; though he takes too big of steps and I can't keep up (he always walks too fast!) I, just about fell on my face several times, and looked like a giant idiot all of the times. I'm not sure if there is hope for me. Jeremy swears we made progress. I think he made progress, I looked like a fool. Who started this whole first dance tradition anyways? They clearly were not a Weinblatt.

We left the studio after the instructor let us know that if we thought we needed it, we could add a fifth lesson (read: there is no way in hell you will not look like a giant idiot unless you take a fifth lesson). He then proceeded to watch me walk out, I think he now agreed, it would be a miracle if I didn't fall flat on my face while just walking out of his studio.