Thursday, August 26, 2010

Yes, like them. Only with two Cindys. And no Tiger.


So my sister Jen really did get married! Some people here in real life thought I was kidding, but I was not kidding. It is real! And some of you might be thinking to yourselves that I never mentioned my sister was getting divorced, and isn't that weird? But you see, blogs are funny like that, because all kinds of stuff can be going on all around you that just isn't yours to write. You must know what I mean. But after more than a year and a half of rough times, Jen has found a nice fella by the name of Jason, and they decided, let's do this thing. Then they decided, if we are going to do it, why wait? And since we are going to be in beautiful San Diego, why not do it there instead of the kitty-litter-box-in-Hades that is Phoenix in July?

And so the hotel set up some chairs, flowers and a fantastic brunch. With California Benedict. It has avocados on it. It is good.

I've been holding out for the real photos, taken by the real photograher, cause I saw them online and it turns out mine don't really look like his. Go figure. But they still haven't arrived. (Oh, but some of these are good. Don't be confused. Those are the ones I stole from Facebook. They were taken by Rand LeSueur.)


The whole bunch.


Jen, Sarah, Jane


Ross, Will, Sam

Jack, Jane, Kaitlyn

Charlie


Nope, Jen and Jason aren't runty. This is just what your pictures look like when your officiant used to be in the NBA.

I purposely did not put his last name in this post, so he won't google himself and find this picture I stole off the internets.
Ashlee, don't tell!

Danny, Dad, Jen


THE CAKE.
It was Carlsbad strawberry. It wasn't at all yucky.
(Once I picked off the fondant. Fondant is yucky.)


Chelsea

Claire

Danny, Jake and Tom

Jen's good friend Christina (Full House) made this headband and shipped it over just in time!


Kaitlyn


The cake deserves two pictures, at least.

Mom and Claire

Jen (Cricket and Pip, scroll down for more wedding photos) and Shireen (who went private, probly cuz her kid's too cute and someone would abduct her. Someone like me. )

See?



So anyway, they are off to a good start. I'm not sure the Park Hyatt (neé Four Seasons) Aviara has ever hosted a wedding where a third of the guests were children, but there were only a few moments when we thought we were going to be kicked off the property. Most of them involved Sam.


Wednesday, August 18, 2010

NEENER

So I'd like to just send a little NEENER-NEENER out onto the internets, to those of you who haven't yet started school. I know it is cooler to say I cry every morning and wish all the kids were here, tucked under my wing of love and tenderness, but it is 110 degrees outside and 110 percent (approximately) humidity, and it just isn't the best time of year to be at home. They spend all Christmas Break riding their bikes around the neighborhood and having Extreme Nerf Wars and bouncing on the trampoline, whilst I bake them cookies and wear stylish sweaters and accessories from Anthropologie (until about 10 am, when it gets too warm), but right now I just sit here sweating in my t-shirt, typing with one hand while holding a shoe in the other, cause Ross found another scorpion this morning and I am jumpy (the scorpions hibernate in winter. Okay, fine, hibernate might not be the right word. Whatever. I'm not looking it up. U can't make me.)

I do enjoy the monsoon storms though. More than I should, maybe. Last night's was a doozy. I could hear thunder and wind from inside the temple. I haven't been outside yet to check for fallen Mesquite trees.

Tonight is another installment of the Ryan Layton Concert Series: John Mayer with Owl City. (Ryan is my younger brother. He is mentally handicapped, works at Target, and enjoys himself some live music.) Monsoons are welcome: we aren't sitting on the lawn this time.

More of the Ryan Layton Concert Series, for you reading enjoyment:

Ok, no time for spell check. Baby is ticked.

Have you seen any good shows lately? Any you wish you'd seen? (Ryan wants to see Paul McCartney, Simon and Garfunkel, and Fleetwood Mac. Hey, a boy can dream.) I am waiting for Bono's back to heal so I can go up to see U2 in Salt Lake, I would like to see the Killers, and I wouldn't miss Coldplay. That was a great show. Maybe Ryan will come along next time.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

I like Vans. Oh, and we party like it's the first day of school.

Okay, the wedding post is still in the works. But look! It is only 8:30 am on the first day of school, and here I am, on the internets!

Everyone got up early and decked themselves out in hats and sunglasses from the swap meet, plus some brand new Vans.

I love Vans. I got my first Vans in the third grade. They were blue with checks. I had them custom made, cause at age 8 my feet were a women's 7.5 AAAA. In college I wore black on black suede lace-ups. Now Jake wears his Vans with the flames on the sides when he takes me on dates, cause he knows I can't resist Vans. He's very smart. If he were even smarter, he'd wear his argyle sweater with the Vans. But they don't really match, so he won't. I guess he likes fashion better than kissing girls.

We opened a bottle of Martinelli's for breakfast to toast the new year, and then everyone went outside to sit on the road.


How did Sam end up with Cousin Jack's fedora?



This is real. Not staged. Don't miss the dollar sign necklace. His beat-me-up-at-recess tee was in the wash. What? You don't think he'll need it? That's so rude!

I also told the kids that if they started waving their fingers around all willy-nilly like that at my Junior High in LA, they'd probly end up dead. They didn't believe me.


By 7:30, the baby was back to sleep, and the after-party had begun. (Yes, that's Tom's t-shirt, tucked into his Madagascar briefs.)

Happy first day of school to you and yours. I wish you something other than 110 degrees.

Which sort of shoes do you wish your husband/boyfriend would wear?
Which sort accidently get tossed in the trash bin/DI pile?
Do you even care about a man's shoes?
Do you think I should look only on his heart, and not on his black socks and Birkenstocks (is hypothetical. Jake would rather die)?
Do you think I have some sort of fetish?

Tuesday, August 03, 2010

Hey! Is that Danny Ainge marrying your sister?

What? You wouldn't have come over here if you knew this was just gonna be more pictures of my stupid vacation?

Well, actually, Danny Ainge did marry my sister. But my sister didn't marry Danny Ainge. (He's already got a lovely wife and six lovely children, including my friend Ashlee.)

Is like a riddle. A riddle I will answer in my next post. Because the wedding didn't happen 'til the last day of vacation. And I am nothing if not chronological...

So, why is San Diego so much better in every way (except for the crowded freeways and in potential for deadly natural disasters ) than Phoenix? Why don't I live there? Well, for two weeks a year, I pretend I do. And it is lovely.

There is the buffet,

and the beach,







and my birthiversary
(had a Hello Kitty princess luau Twilight fiesta party with cousin Claire, who was turning 5. Jake got us a cake from VG Donuts in Cardiff, which was an appetizer for our romantic dinner at Jake's Del Mar, where we have spent many of our 14 anniversaries),

my buddies since fourth grade, Hallie and Shawna,

and the Battalion.
Have you been to the Mormon Battalion Visitor's Center down in Old Town since it was reopened? The kids loved the talking pictures (my great great great Grandma Phoebe Draper Palmer Brown was one of the narrators) and other Disney-ish effects. Above, Ross and Sam were outfitted for service at Ft. Leavenworth, Kansas. After the tour, the kids panned for gold and washed clothes by hand.


We also did some stuff that didn't start with B, like the Swap Meet. (See Jake below in all his vintage double breasted Hugo Boss glory, probably pawing through these used nighties looking for my anniversary gift.

And Legoland. Where it was too hot.
So we headed back to the beach.

Relaxing is hard. No one can blame you if you fall asleep in your swimsuit, your crack full of sand, shirt backwards and inside out, and your fist full of strawberry Laffy Taffy. It happened to me, too. Tommy just looked cuter in the picture.

Stay tuned for wedding photos...