h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

I really like the fact we are having small wedding with just a few peeps and photies for everyone else. It's affordable for a start.

B

I can't wait to see the pictures, Ben and Z!

>wandered off to poke the flower arrangements and count spoons


As to bouquets, I was by tradition supposed to order the one for my wife-to-be. Hmmm, but I didn't know the dress or its colour and wasn't meant to, either. So the dress' creator, a dear friend of ours then, went with me to their local flower shop, heard what I liked and didn't like and what I thought Miss SG V likes. And then I was shooed out while she agreed to details. When I was allowed back in, I tried to see the florist's notes. Absolutely no go - he was Chinese and so were the notes...

All went smashingly well despite more guests than my Mother had ever allowed (only about 30% more) and heavy rain in the morning that gave space to wonderful sunshine all in due time.

*goes off to cook dinner before he gets all misty eyed and, Bob forbid, ranting *

Oh, Bob, yes, I am a tad scarred (scarred, I tell you!) by the whole thing of people's expectations over my wedding. I had wanted what Ben and Z are having, a small, adorable wedding on the QT and on the cheap, possibly somewhere meaningful/amusing/romantic. S decided that we could have it at my mother's place of business (she runs a venue for weddings and conferences and what-have-you) because Mum was prepared to let us have the venue free. Now, said venue fits up to 200, and my family is ENORMOUS, so we were utterly unable to say 'it's only a little immediate family and friends type do (esp as even immediate family is dozens and dozens of people). And then, we'd let my Mum in on it, as it were, and she went into Mother-of-The-Bridezilla mode. The only parts of all my plans that stayed the same were a) I got married in red (Mum approved of that, luckily, though no-one else did (which was the point, heh heh heh)) and b) I married S.

I, too, enjoyed last night's Torchwood, even though I watched it this morning while hiding from the carpeters with my housemates. We now have beautiful red carpets in the hall, stairs and landings, and reasonably beautifully painted walls to go with them, which we finished painting at about 1.30 this morning (hence not watching Torchwood last night). We're recording the other episodes as well, and will try jolly hard to watch them all together.

No Torchwood spoilers, please. The mini-series won't be played over on this side of the pond until July 20, I believe.

Well venues we rejected were:

The London Eye (too expensive)
Dungeness Lighthouse (too remote, even for us)
Various other Lighthouses (didn't know 'em well enough)
Lindisfarne (too expensive)
The Broch of Mousa (too complicated)

But I do feel smug about the whole thing when I stop to think about it.

My X and I had a great wedding. The marriage, on the other hand, not so much.

That said, if I ever get married again (and really, that's a HUGE if), I swear I'm going to Las Vegas and getting married by Elvis. And then throwing one hellacious BBQ for everyone I know.

That sounds fabulous, MR.

This I thought was charming: http://flowingdata.com/2009/07/07/colored-tree-cookies-and-stairs-in-visualization-ad/

I am looking forward to the wedding. Last week we had a hairy moment at work - (think someone about to stop having a virtal bodily function happening whilst we watched).

And after it was all over (and said person was alive one of the nurses asked me if I was nervous *about my wedding*?

'Gosh, no' I mean what can possibly go wrong with my wedding ? As long as marry the woman I planned to marry and not another one.'

Teuchter's spoken for, so you should be fine.

The
cat
sat
on
the
essay.


Which reminds me Amy, what about Dr Seuss?

Indeed.

The Nurse told me that you would not be happy with that attitude, and at this moment in time you would be very nervous that everything would go wrong.

I love the way having a Bacheolors Degree in Nursing makes you know exactly what s girlfriends are thinking.

Mmmmmmm.

My problem is that if things go wrong I tend to enjoy the ensuing chaos.

Indeed, I fail to see how 'things going wrong' can be anything but amusing stories to tell people.

Unless you change your mind.

Oh, we've read all the Dr. Suess I could get my grubby little hands on! I've got a good handle on picture books (after all, I can preview those as fast as I can turn the pages, almost) I just need insight as to little kids' chapter books. Once I know she can follow a plot that's longer than a chapter, there's no problem--I've got some of my books still. And of course, recommendations are always good! I'll be reading the Redwall series, once I think she can follow what the moles are saying

The Redwall books are awesome! It still amazes me that they are in the 'young adult' section of my favourite bookstore. I started reading them myself at age ten. Enid Blyton books are good. The faraway tree or magic chair are probably about the right level for Faith. The little house on the Prairie and associated books are also good (well the first three anyways) Umm, there were probably others but my train of thought has derailed itself about three times already while writing this.

mini

Rant Alert

Why do so many people think the library wants their trash? I'm fed up with bags and boxes of moldy books, torn magazines and ancient textbooks. They are not treasures. We don't want them, can't sell them, can't even give them away. As for the sets of Funk and Wagnalls Encyclopedias printed while Eisenhower was President, no one wanted those when they were new, let alone now. We don't want your Reader's Digest condensed books. We don't want your National Geographics. We don't want your religious phamplets, you VHS tapes of old Joan Collins movies, (especially not the one with the spiders)or your dog chewed copy of a biography of Jesse Ventura.

This is a library, folks, not a charity shop. We have limited shelf space. I buy the items I want and need. I don't even want your half-way decent books and magazines, although we can usually sell them for a quarter or a dime. Precious few books are collector's items. Yours are TRASH. Just because something is in print doesn't make it valuable. Just because it belongs to you doesn't make it valuable. We don't care if it was a gift from your Aunt Ethel. Especially not when you wait until the pages are yellow and literally stink before you bring them in.

Nor do we want your old toys, household items or Christmas decorations. You can keep your naked Barbie dolls, too. Why on earth do you think we want naked Barbie dolls? Last month a woman brought in three table lamps and a large pot of those velour poinsettias. Please keep your incomplete jigsaw puzzles, your crossword puzzle books with at least half the puzzles already worked and your sticker books without any stickers. We don't want your new coloring books, let alone the ones with the pages already colored. We don't want anything you've had in a box in the garage for 15 years, especially not the spiders, silverfish and roaches that come with them.

Don't completely fill my bookdrop with old paperback romances or leave boxes of three year old Wall Street Journals by the back door. We don't want them. You want to help the library? Then throw the stuff away yourself instead of bringing it to me to throw away for you. You want to help the library? Give me a donation of money to purchase things we can actually use. Or pay for a magazine subscription. Or donate money for storytime supplies. You could even buy me a box of chocolates or a dozen roses. Just don't leave a large box of faded plastic flowers or a box of appointment calendars from 2002 under my stairs.

Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh.

Evening all

I hope everyone has had a good day.

Hypatia, apparently people are confusing you with GoodWill?

I managed to find Goblet of Fire for D, and then I went and had a pedicure. On my way out, I dropped my bag right on top of my newly painted toes. The manicurist was lovely, and re-applied the polish...thank goodness.

Perhaps I was a bit discombobulated from the most surreal thing ever: every local station was broadcasting Michael Jackson's memorial live, and at one point, all the manicurists started singing. Apparently, MJ is hugely popular amongst SoCal's Vietnamese population.