They say it's your birthday!!

                                                                          

Cheers, it's my birthday!  What a big summer this is...I'm turning 32, which isn't nearly as scary as it should be since my mind is focused on getting married in 3 weeks!

I've said it before, but I'll say it again, Facebook truly rocks.  When I woke up this morning, I had 37 Facebook messages wishing me a Happy Birthday, and they're still coming.  People from every stage of my life too...childhood friends, classmates, former co-workers, current co-workers...even a transvestite I met in Indy while do a media event.  Who could ask for more than that?

As I was waking up today, (late, of course!) I started thinking about what different birthdays meant to me.

* I remember being super excited about turning 10.  I was no longer a dorky single-digit...I was now a double-digit!  Hmm, as you get older, you really like single digits when it's comes to clothing sizes.  Funny how that works.

* When I turned 13, I was so stoked about becoming a teenager!  Good thing I didn't know it would be another 4 years until I had my first kiss.  Because I was?  A dork!

* When I turned 16, I was so excited to finally be able to drive, (a June birthday means you're one of the last ones in your class) and get the keys to my new red Fiero.  Too bad with my braces and oversized glasses I still looked 13, and I didn't have (m)any friends to ride with me.

* When I turned 18, I had just graduated from high school and was on my way to college to start my broadcasting degree and become a famous, rich news anchor!  (The whole recession/newsroom cuts that would come in 10 years, I clearly didn't see a comin'.)

* When I turned 21, I was so pumped to drink!  I remember taking my first drink, and having really shaky hands.  I guess I still felt like it was illegal and someone was going to bust me soon.  Now I live to get carded.

* When I turned 25, I was ecstatic that my car insurance rates were going down.  Considering I was making $20,000 in the "high-paying news business", every little bit helped.

* When I turned 30 I went with Mike, our friend Casey, and some of my girlfriends to Las Vegas and had a rockin' good time.  Somehow 30 doesn't feel so old when you see 80-year-old chain smoking women in the casino at 4 a.m.

So here I am, turning 32.  I thought by now I'd already be married with 6 kids, and be the main anchor in a major market.  Sure, life throws you some curve balls every now and again, (and I don't exactly have everything figured out), but I've never been happier in my entire life.

Shalom everybody!

Bridezilla, here I come!

How long do you think it takes a company to send out this dress to the customer who ordered it?  2 weeks?  3 weeks?  Try 3 months and counting.  Did I mention this is my wedding dress and I still haven't received it, and oh yeah, our wedding in his 3 weeks.

Deep breaths Jeannie, deep breaths.

C'mon Alfred Angelo, I ordered this dress on March 17th, and I didn't ask for Pope Benedict to bless it before you shipped it off.  Everyday I call and some 20's-something girl with a really high voice tells me, "It should be on its way."  Well guess what ladies, it's not.

Here is why you should always listen to your inner voice.  I went into the Alfred Angelo store in Fort Myers, Florida after my girlfriend/bridesmaid raved about the fabulous service she received there.  Like Julia Roberts Pretty Woman style, where the workers were bringing her dresses that would look fabulous on her.  When I went it, I was told to "help myself" and had to personally up-zip the protective bag around each dress just so I could see it.  Typically bridal shops don't want people's dirty digits on their dresses, but apparently mine were A-OK.

Then when I tried on the dresses (none of which were in my size), I had to come out of the dressing room holding it up for dear life so I didn't flash everyone there.  My girlfriend had someone pin her dress for her, but for me?  Nothing.

I hesitantly ordered the dress I thought would fit.  And did I mention I did so on March 17th?

And it's still not here.

I'm channeling my inner Bridezilla, and getting ready to call and argue with the Co-Manager on why I should get my money back.  Wish me luck and pray that I don't make her cry.

The coolest gift...ever

Mike and I just received what may be the best wedding presents....ever.  Aren't these paintings the cutest things you've ever seen?  As you can tell, Bailey and Buckeye already love them!  I got them this weekend from my good friend Brooke who was in town for my Bachelorette party.  I laughed so hard I started crying when I opened them.  I couldn't believe how well the artist captured my little nuggets.  You can even see a freckle Buckeye has next to his left eye.

Come to find out, I know this talented artist! Her name is Allison Kegley, and we met through mutual friends when I lived in Indy. She's a teacher by day, and paints custom pet paintings by night. You should check out her work at http://www.allisonkegley.com. She uses acrylic paint and her designs come in a variety of bright colors.  Allison says Andy Warhol is her inspiration, but I personally think she's even more talented.

Considering how much we all adore our pets, my prediction is Allison is going to make it huge!  Let's face it, most of us would rather hang out with dogs over people any day of the week.  Plus, dogs come with extra bonuses like feet licking (see Friday's post entitled "Dogs Rock.")

Thanks Allison and Brooke!

Another city perk

Just when I thought getting a spray tan was the coolest/most convenient thing ever, I am now enjoying another luxury of city living.  I just had $153 dollars worth of groceries delivered to my front door instead of having to carry them on my back like my usual torture.  I even answered the door in my robe--talk about cool!

I have 5 girlfriends in town for my 2nd Bachelorette party (Holla!), and I wanted to make them a really nice breakfast on Sunday morning.  I knew carrying all the groceries including a gallon of milk, gallon of o.j., champagne for the o.j., and tequila for the milk (Yum!) would be very heavy for the mile walk home.  So I remembered seeing these Peapod trucks in our neighborhood delivering groceries to people's high-rise apartments.  I looked it up, and realized the price is very reasonable.  The delivery price was only $6, and I had a $10 off coupon, so it's perfect!

Once you place your order, you choose a pick-up time and you have several hours to change your order.  Last night after a few cocktails, I "drunk ordered" some more stuff, because why should I live without Doritos?

When I finally get a full-time job, I've decided I'm going to Peapod it every week, because after an entire winter of schlepping my groceries a mile in the snow, well, I deserve it.  (I wonder how I'll tell that story to my kids?  It will probably end up being five miles in a blizzard, and I couldn't afford shoes so I got frostbite on my toes and nearly lost every tootsie.  Yeah--I like that.)

Dogs rock

This afternoon after getting home from work, I was exhausted.  The kind of tired in which you can't even get through your DVR recording of Oprah.  That's bad.

So I laid down to take a nap, and pretty soon I had company.  No, not Fernando from 31 A (I wish!), but instead my two Chihuahua's.  They both crawled under the covers, and one laid next to my stomach and the other one laid next to my back.  For the next hour, we slept away.  But here's the thing...considering they slept all day before I got home, they probably weren't tired, but because dogs are so sweet, they love to spend as much time with you as possible.

Seriously people, dogs are the best things....ever.  If you've ever thought about getting one, but aren't sure if it's too much work, I say get one.  They will give you a feeling of love you've never experienced before.  Here are the top reasons dogs rock.   

* Buckeye licks my feet until I fall asleep.  Gross, yes, but very relaxing.  Mike would never do that.

* You can dress dogs up, and for now apparent reason, put a toupee on one and take a picture.  They'll patiently stand still and let you take a pic.  They don't even get mad and pee on your shoes later. (Okay, some do that, but I don't think it's because of the toupee or the little Desperate Housedogs t-shirt you put on them)

* They'll bark when someone is at the door, alerting you to potential dangers.  Sure, they don't understand the pizza man is more of an angel than the devil, but we're working on that.

* They'll patiently sunbathe with you at your parent's vacation home in Jackson, Tennessee (see top picture).  Sure, they don't need the color (especially the black one), but they just love being with you.  Isn't that sweet?

* They'll kindly clean your shoes by licking them out every night.

* Sometimes they'll clean up after themselves by eating their own poo.  (Hey, I can't even get Mike to hit the toilet, so that's huge)

* No matter how long you're gone, they act like you're the coolest/best/smartest thing ever and they'll shower you with love.  What human will ever give you that greeting?

Why Twitter?

                                                         
I love social media.  The highlight of my day is checking Facebook, and seeing how many people checked "Like!" next to my update that says something like, "The future hubby made me spaghetti tonight with homemade sauce.  I think he's a keeper!"  I also love seeing girls who were bitchy to me in high school, and now have a lot of "junk in their trunk" (if you know what I'm sayin'.)  I also secretly love seeing an ex-boyfriend who married someone who, well, let's just say she must have a darling personality.  Facebook rocks.

But Twitter?  I just don't get it.  I've tried and tried, but it seems so pointless.  You basically do the same thing as Facebook--you post something about your day--only with Twitter you have a short amount of space to say it and no one responds.  On Facebook, when I posted the Mike/spaghetti comment, people wrote back, "Way to go Mike!"  Or, "Awe!"  On Twitter--nothing.  Your comments just go to a great abyss known as cyber space.  (I guess I like constant praise--it's a female thing.)

Here are some of my actual Tweets I know people just couldn't live without...

"Put 2% milk on my cereal today and it's so yummy!  Tastes like cream after years of skim."  April 29th, 7:56 a.m. (Don't you feel better knowing that?)

"Mike's bachelor party is this weekend.  Let's hope he doesn't wake up with Mike Tyson's tiger in his hotel room..." April 23rd, 8:50 a.m. (A Hangover reference.  Clever, right?)

"Apple Jacks may be the best cereal...ever." April 9th, 7:43 a.m. (True, but did you need to read that?  Probably not.)

"Why the tears Kate? [Gosselin] You're not a star or a dancer, so it's only natural you got kicked off the show." April 20th, 6:30 p.m. (Okay, clearly my life revolves around food and TV.  Not. Good.)

At least with Twitter, I can follow movie stars like Ashton Kutcher.  His post today says, "Kuwait translation: three guests come with no appointment....Love....Luck...Death."  (Okay, I think Ashton maybe smoking a little too much wacky tobacky.  I have no idea what that means.  Does Demi?)

The Name Game

There's a point in wedding planning when you realize there's no turning back.  That's when you have a mini panic attack, and you reach for the nearest bottle of vodka and/or Xanax.

Actually, I'm doing really well, but I find it's little things that make me realize this is for real.  Take this check for example..it was written out to Michael or Jeannie Evanchan.  Whoa!  I'm giving up my last name, people!  I guess I've known I would be doing that for quite some time, but seeing it in writing suddenly made it seem very real.

When I was back home, a married girlfriend told me there's a certain amount of sadness that goes with giving up your last name.  It's your identity.  It's who you've been for 31 years.  It's the name my Pops gave me, and his Pops gave him.  It's part of my English roots.  Plus, I've had really cool nicknames over the years.  Here are some I'll miss...
* Croftsy
* Croftsinator (You know, a spin off of Terminator.  It's probably my bulging muscles that gave me that nickname) 
* Croftstein (My Jewish friends adopted me one year for Hanukkah and the name stuck)
* Laura Croft, The Tomb Raider (I often get mistaken for Angelina Jolie.  It's a curse)

One problem with the name Crofts is that no one ever understands it over the phone.  Thank God I'm picking up Evanchan...that's much easier.