I’ve been in Germany for a month and a half now, and I keep wishing this would happen:
But in German, obviously.
Instead, this is all that keeps running through my brain:
But at least I’m not as bad as these guys:
I’ve been in Germany for a month and a half now, and I keep wishing this would happen:
But in German, obviously.
Instead, this is all that keeps running through my brain:
But at least I’m not as bad as these guys:
Oh, look, another wedding post. But this is the last one – the best one. After the legal stuff and the mountains, we had a party!
The Rocket Scientist and I had our big reception at an Air Force Base military museum, with collections specializing in Victorian life and the Cold War. If that doesn’t scream “wedding,” what does? All guests had to go through a serious background check to attend – just like going to a celebrity wedding, but with none of the perks.
But here it is – our reception. Highlights include Velociraptors, Rock ‘em Sock ‘em Robots, lavender, Colin Firth, milkshakes, Batman, and a surprise monkey.
99.99% of the credit for EVERYTHING goes to my mum, who planned an amazingly fun reception on a very small budget. My dad also helped with everything, and Millie was a superstar for the two days before the reception. Monkey credit goes to Sarah, Chelsie, and Chelsie’s gentleman friend.
And I wish there was a better close-up of my second (!) headpiece, but my mum made it. It’s a gorgeous, rhinestone applique sewn onto white ribbon. Basically, a sparkly, sparkly tiara.
The reception was perfect. We drank milkshakes, played boardgames, got more people to read nerdy science quotes, smashed a pinata, had all the guests compete in trivia rounds for prizes of German chocolate and United States Air Force Junior Missilier Badges, took silly pictures with dress up clothing and funny props (spot Princess Beatrice’s infamous hat) ran through a shower of lavender, and hugged, kissed, and high-fived everyone we could find.
Since a few people have asked, here’s where I found my dress and accessories:
When the gentleman friend and I were deciding where to get married, we quickly knew that Boulder, Colorado was the right place. It was where we had met and fallen in love, and the city was full of happy memories for us. We could also marry ourselves in Colorado, with no need of an officiant. And since we could go to any public park and get hitched without a permit, we had our pick of gorgeous mountain backdrops to choose from.
So on a Friday afternoon, with our families and a few close friends, we did just that, driving up to a park in a canyon in the mountains.
We walked to the ceremony site – a little clearing next to a creek at the base of a mountain.
I got distracted by a cool spider on the bridge.
To begin the ceremony, we handed out strips of paper. When The Rocket Scientist and I were trying to decide what we wanted to include in the day (ahem…last minute…ahem), all the readings we loved were only a sentence or two long. And since we had about 15 that we loved, we decided to invite anyone who wanted to participate to come up, grab a sentence, and go for it.
I had all of these in the pockets of my dress, because my dress had pockets. POCKETS!
The quote possibilities included:
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy has this to say on the subject of love: Avoid, if at all possible. Unfortunately, Katie and [The Rocket Scientist] have never read the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy – The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (sort of)
The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious – the fundamental emotion which stands at the cradle of true art and true science – Albert Einstien
Love makes you do the wacky – Buffy, The Vampire Slayer
The heart is a living museum. In each of its galleries, no matter how narrow or dimly lit, preserved forever like wondrous diatoms, are our moments of loving, and being loved. – Diane Ackerman, A Natural History of Love
Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known – Carl Sagan
We’re all a little weird. And life is weird. And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutual weirdness and call it love – Robert Fulgam
Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love - Albert Einstein
I’d buy you Rogaine, when you start losing all your hair. Sew on patches, to all you tear. ‘Cause I love the way you say good morning, and you take me the way I am - Ingrid Michaelson, “The Way I Am”
I LOVE this picture of Millie, after she read the Hitchhiker’s Guide quote.
My handsome Dad, reading Carl Sagan (with over 40 years as a performer under his belt, he set the bar for wedding readings. Seriously, he should hire himself out)
Sarah, looking beautiful and slightly teary as she read her quote.
Then it was time for vows. They were super short, but I still didn’t get through the first line without choking up!
I promise to trust and respect you.
To adore and embrace you.
To encourage and celebrate you.
To support you intellectually and emotionally.
And to be your partner for all our adventures.
I love you!
(put ring on finger)
Yes, I even included action instructions.
Wedding dresses with pockets are also handy for storing Kleenex.
The flowers in my bouquet were mainly daisies, because they’re my favorite and The Rocket Scientist has always given them to me. But there was also one yellow rose, because that’s the flower my dad’s always brought me. For the first day of each school year, for new jobs, and most recently for a move across the ocean, he always gives me yellow roses. So of course I had to carry one down the aisle.
The Rocket Scientist was awesome, and didn’t get all ugly-crying snotty like I did. But then it was done, there was smooching, and we were married!
Don’t all my (unofficial) bridesmaids look absolutely gorgeous? I have some seriously stunning friends, both in looks and spirit, and it was such a honor to have them all with me. I didn’t grow up with any siblings, but I have five sisters.
And without even trying, they all coordinated to the colors of the grey mountains and green, red, gold, and plum colors of the foliage.
I also have the most beautiful family (complete with a sassy British grandma).
The Rocket Scientist’s family cleans up nicely, too.
And then shenanigans ensued.
What a sweet, fun, and lovely afternoon.
Up next: the party!
The fellow Interrobangs surprised The Rocket Scientist and me by chipping in to rent a GORGEOUS room* in the nicest hotel in Boulder. We got ready in style! Honestly, the place was so swanky we should have named it “Hilary.”
*complete with a fake goldfish
Before we went to the hotel, Chelsie, Sarah and I stopped by a florist to get flowers for the ceremony. No appointment, no reserved flowers, just three girls grabbing daisies. While I got ready, my awesome unofficial bridesmaids* made bouquets for everyone.
*They were unofficial bridesmaids because they didn’t have to do anything other than show up. No wearing matching dresses, no organizing engagement/bridal/bachelorette showers/parties, just the girls I love most in the world being with me.
You can’t tell, but I’m wearing my bustier and crinoline with a flannel shirt. Other hotel guests were out on the neighboring balconies, and apparently I gave them quite a show.
I’ve since learned that most people have pre-ceremony schedules to keep everyone on track and on time. We just winged it.
As a result, I ended up with about 45 minutes to get ready, there was an incident with exploding eye shadow on several dresses (including mine) and we were almost an hour late. But since it wasn’t what you would call a traditional ceremony (more on that next time), no one really minded (except for everyone waiting in the hotel lobby for us, but what were they going to do, get married without me?).
In the end, we all scrubbed up quite nicely.
And my favorite picture of the afternoon: me adjusting my strapless bra.
Up next: a mountain ceremony.
Once upon a time, two girls met on the first day of Invertebrate Zoology class (nerds). 11 years have gone by, and lots of things have changed, but some things haven’t changed at all.
Yellow front door.
Garage sale finds.
Interior door upgrade and door knob painting.
Flower photo taking.
This one is for Katie. The same material as Tiger Couch’s partner in crime pillow. As seen at the hospital last week. (I don’t have the pillow anymore, and you already knew the fate of Tiger Couch…)
Cell Phone Dude: “Hi, how can I help you today?”
Katie: “Hey. I have a really awesome cell phone number, but I’m going to be moving to Europe for a few years. I want to know if there’s any way my number can be held for me until I get back.”
C.P.D.: “You have an ‘awesome number?’”
Katie: “Yep. I should be called ‘Jenny’ for how good my number is.”
Katie: [awkwardly starts sort-of singing] “867-5309…”
Katie: “The song? ’867-5309/Jenny?’ By Tommy Tutone.”
C.P.D.: “Oh. I don’t know it.”
Katie: “You work in a cell phone store and you don’t know a famous telephone song?”
C.P.D.: “Telephone song?”
Katie: “You know. Like Blondie’s ‘Call Me,’ Stevie Wonder’s ‘I Just Called to Say I Love You,’ Lady Gaga and Beyonce’s ‘Telephone,’ Chuck Berry’s ‘Memphis Tennessee,’ and, of course, Raffi’s ‘Banana Phone.’”
I’m at a (horribly boring) conference this week, and today was the Free* Fancy Conference Lunch day.
Wait Staff: *puts a plate of salmon and rice in front of me*
Millie: “Oh, I’m a vegetarian.”
WS: “So you want the chicken?”
M: “No… I’m a vegetarian. I’d like the vegetarian lunch.”
My supervisor, a former vegetarian, and I laugh incredulously and chat about how some people just cannot seem to grasp that vegetarian = does not eat anything that had a pulse.
20 minutes later:
M: “Any chance I’ll be able to get some lunch today?”
WS: “They miscounted the vegetarian lunches — it’ll be just a few minutes.”
20 minutes and one plate of insipid mushroom pasta later:
Extremely longwinded award presenter: “I’d like to thank the organizers for putting on an delicious and very well run lunch!”
S: “Clearly they weren’t sitting with any vegetarians.”
* My supervisor says that they aren’t actually free, because you have to sit around and listen to speeches and incredibly drawn out award ceremonies, and after today’s performance I’m inclined to agree. On the upside, sitting with him means I have someone to make snarky comments with during it.
As with most things in my life, almost my entire comprehension of Germany comes from popular culture references. Therefore, I suspect that most Germans one day awake to find themselves transformed into an insect and write protest songs with balloon metaphors.
Lately, some new gems from Germany have expanded my expectations even more:
Germany. There will be monkeys.
We’ll all party on the moon! I’ve seriously learned so much German from this video.* Boy bands save the day once again. For example, ”Party” = “Party.” I can totally sprachen the German.
*Seriously. Start watching at 2:50 this is how I practice counting.
After a week of late-night movie marathons, living room picnics, art museum fashion shows, and prairie dog-finding adventures, my apartment is eerily quiet. 3/4′s of this blog, and my better halves (just pretend that math works) are back at home, safe and sound. Man, I miss those ladies already!
Spending the afternoon cleaning and cooking, all the while listening to Dead Parrot Society.
Chelsie, Millie AND Sarah are all coming out for a visit this month, and to celebrate I’ve booked us a night in a fancy hotel in the big(ish) city.
Our “deluxe guestroom” has, and I quote,
Italian Frette linens, feather down comforters and pillows
C.O. Bigelow bath amenities, ooh la la!
It’s official! The Rocket Scientist and I will not be homeless!
It’s teeny-tiny and there’s only one closet, but I love it and it’s ours (and the closet’s mine).
The Rocket Scientist did a fantastic job apartment hunting, and I’m so excited to move into our new home in the fall.
Anyone have small-space living tips to share? We already know we can sleep on the balcony…
I was paging through an online gift guide in late November hoping for some Christmas gift ideas when I stumbled upon some cool looking shirts from Bark Decor. I bought one for my brother and one for S.
I gave this one to my brother because where he lives there are many bears, and a bear bicycling with a fish in it’s mouth seemed kind of funny. Everyone liked it.
Cut to a month or two later. My brother Skypes me and explains that while he was at the bar someone commented on his shirt and asked why he was wearing a shirt with a bicycling bear that had a human arm in it’s mouth. My brother gave him a funny look, looked at the shirt, and realized it was indeed a human arm. Now the shirt can be a discussion point and he likes it even more!
Maybe I should have figured out this out earlier, seeing as the name of the shirt is Commandeered By Wilderness and the description says “This bear is in the business of stealing bikes and eating arms! Be aware, he’s fond of Schwinns, streamers and delicious body parts!” Clearly I did not read the description at all!
I have a one-bedroom apartment. So does the neighbor above me. He doesn’t have an office, but he does have a balcony. That he likes to use. At midnight.
“If I had to say…I guess I’d say I’m out 10%, but in 90%. If I had to say. I don’t know if I want to say, though. Percentage-wise, I mean.”
“Dude, $1,000 is NOT a lot of money! That’s only like 10,000 pennies.” [Katie from bedroom below: "Almost got it!"]
“I can totally sell that shit. I can sell shit to a shit-loving monkey, that’s how good I am. I can even sell shit to a monkey that doesn’t like shit.”
“Of course they have to pay me. I don’t work pro-bono…No, bono. Not boner.” [Have I mentioned he's in college?]
“[Insert name here] Enterprises. Hey, Mom.”
I’ve always been tall. Taller than the other girls and often taller than the boys, at 6′ my height has always been a defining characteristic. Yes, the weather is just fine up here, no I don’t play basketball, and of course I’ll get you that jar off the top shelf, little old lady.
But besides the obvious – that I’m tall – my height doesn’t garner much discussion. To others it’s a novelty, a passing observation, a descriptor. “Oh, you know Katie. The tall one.” But female height should get discussion. Because just a few extra inches can make miles of difference in how society perceives and treats women.
That’s why I’m excited to see the new documentary, Tall Girls: A Story of Giants (Click for the trailer – it’s being stubborn and doesn’t want to embed). While every tall girl’s story is different, the collective story of how society reacts to women with height is one I haven’t heard discussed before.
I’ll admit that the tone of the trailer is on the dour side: women who can’t find partners, girls having surgery to stop them from growing taller. Being tall isn’t always easy, but I hope that quotes like ” Obviously that’s a body size a girl can’t be happy with,” and “Girls aren’t proud to be that tall” are countered with positive examples of tall women kicking ass and taking names.
On a related note:
P.S. If you’re in the Denver area, Long Tall Sally is hosting a pop up shop April 28-29! Other pop-up shop locations and dates here.
Katie: “So, those are some pretty powerful security cameras, huh?…”
Security Guard: “Yep.”
Katie: “How powerful are they? Let’s say…for example…I pick a wedgie in the elevator. Hypothetically speaking. Can you tell?”
Katie: “What if I pick a wedgie in the hallway?”
Katie: “In Registration?”
Katie: “What about the 1st-Floor Gallery?”
Katie: “Design & Production?”
S.G.: “You mean pick a wedgie again, right?”
The Rocket Scientist may have found us our new German apartment, complete with an 0h-so-German landlord.
Herr Fuchs: “Und ze balcony ees very large. You can even sleep on eet.”*
*In my imagination, he speaks English with a bad German accent. Just like in the movies, which are always accurate.
The Rocket Scientist: “Really? People sleep on the balcony?”
Herr Fuchs (looking very serious): “Ya. As long as zat ees ALL you do.”
Duly noted, Herr Fuchs.
So you know how I keep saying/feeling/thinking that I’m a seamstress, when in reality I haven’t sewn a stitch in months? And have a much neglected blog that I keep wanting to write more for, but am apparently very bad a making the time for it? And that whole yoga thing that I used to do but have totally fallen out of practice with (and never really blogged about so of course you don’t know about it)? Well, I now have another entry on the list of Neglected Activities That Millie Likes Very Much But Is Not Good At Making Time For.
You see, my lovely gentleman friend A. went and bought me this for Christmas:
The sounds I made upon opening it were not unlike (very, very loud) hedgehog squeaks.
I have no idea how he came across these, considering he’s not at all of the crafty sort, but you can see why I have to learn how to knit, right? There’s no way I can not make these somewhere down the road, so I need to get started on the road now in the hopes that I’ll be competent enough to make these for next winter.
I’m fortunate in that I know quite a few people who know how to knit, and I suspect several of them would be willing to teach me. But sometimes it’s nice to have videos/books/etc for learning tools too, because I feel considerably better getting surly and cussy at my computer screen than at my friend who’s already doing me a significant favour, and I know full well I will get surly and cussy about this. I’ve been sewing for over ten years and I regularly get surly and cussy about it, even when it’s going well. Plus I’m left-handed, so trying to flip everything mentally so that the mechanism makes sense with respect to how my brain makes sense of the world while learning is… interesting. I’ve tried halfheartedly to learn how to knit before, and it went very poorly, partially for that reason.
I’m under the impression that at least some of the fine and wonderful readers of this blog know how to knit to some degree, so do you know of any good resources for the beginning knitter? Gold stars for any that are left-handed! I’ve signed up at ravelry.com, since I’m under the impression that that’s the thing knitters do, and if you want to look me up I’m milliescientist.
I anticipate much flailing and waving of needles, and a very grouchy Millie. I’ll keep you posted!
It’s a long shot, but here we go:
Does anyone know of a room I could rent in/around Boston? I was just offered a very cool, but very temporary museum job that I’d love to take, but the logistics of finding a place to live on really short notice are a big stumbling block.
So I turn to you, oh internets, in case anyone has any magic (or apartments) up their sleeve.
I (Millie) passed my exam, can now breathe again (I was getting a bit blue in the face from holding my breath for a few weeks now), and am mighty, mighty relieved. This was the last exam I had to pass before my thesis defence, and that’s who knows how many years down the road.
I’m hoping that now I have some sense of academic stability, I can get a better balance going between school and not-school activities, including posting here more regularly. Internet, I’ve missed you!
Coworker: “So, have you learned German for your trip?”
Me: “A little.”
Coworker: “What do you know how to say?”
Me: “guten Morgen, guten Abend, guten Tag, guten Nacht, bitte, danke, and Haifisch”
Coworker: “Wait, what’s that last one mean?”
Coworker: “Alright, then.”
It has started to get a bit cooler outside in the evenings, even though my prodigious tomato plan is unaware of this and continues to bloom and provide lots of cherry tomatoes. About two weeks ago I threw in the shovel (literally) and dug up my rosemary for it’s indoor wintering. The greenhouse lady said to take off a third of the roots from the bottom, and give it a similar haircut. I also kind of pruned and shaped it for good measure (and looks). Next to it is a very sad looking pot of lavender. Initially I had them sitting in their own dirt, but that started getting a bit messy, so I took out some glossed up ornamental rocks and really liked the result. I bought my fancy rocks from the dollar store.
My avocado plants really need some new pots, I think they are outgrowing these. Of course the ones I have my eye on are much too expensive, so I will wait. I also put these hens and chicks in a pot with tiny pebbles. Putting the fancy rocks in the planters was an easy thing to do, and visually it looks quite a bit nicer now.
Someone who lives in the apartment above snores very loudly, and the floors are thin enough that it keeps me up at night. I’ve lived in this apartment for two years now, and for the first eight months or so I stuck it out with earplugs and a fan (and a lot of tooth-gritting), but then gave up and moved the bed to the other bedroom (yes, I’m fancy and have a two bedroom apartment). Bliss! No earplugs (which really hurt, make me sleep poorly, and may potentially damage my ears), no fans (which irritates the people who live below me and make me cold), just sleep.
And then last week the snoring moved. I thought maybe they had visitors for Thanksgiving, so I left it be. But it’s continued on, and there’s no snoring in the original bedroom, so it’s clear that someone’s moved. I’m fine with moving my bed back, but I’d rather know for sure before I do it, because moving my bed and rearranging my apartment is a pain, and I’d rather not have to do it every week. So I gather my gumption, and go upstairs to have a conversation I’ve been avoiding for two years now. The lady who answered the door told me, in rather offended terms, that no-one there snores and there’s no issue. And then slammed the door in my face.
So, internet, help me out here. Any suggestions for how to deal with this? I’m leery about moving the bed because I’m sure once I do that it’ll move back to the original room, but you guys, I need some sleep.
Five adults squished into a car. Of course I’m in the middle of the back seat. My mom is sitting next to me and asks my brother, in the front seat, to get her water from under the seat.
My brother reaches under the front passenger seat to find the water. He finds: a sugar bowl that was given to my mom by a relative. A wine glass, securely stashed and wrapped in a napkin for safekeeping under the seat. The wine glass, it was explained, is for emergency wine tastings, since if you bring your own wine glass, tastings are free in some parts. You always need an emergency wine glass, am I right?! We all laugh.
Next he finds the matching creamer to the sugar bowl. Oh, here is another wine glass, this one is for my father of course. This is starting to seem like some sort of crazy magician’s bag, but let me assure you, my parent’s car is not like something you’d find on Hoarders, it is very nice and clean.
Finally, he finds the bottle of water. Mission accomplished. And we continue our cramped car trip.
Do you have anything funny hidden in your car? Any unorthodox emergency supplies? Or maybe just something your forget to take out of the car? I have a habit of grabbing large amounts of paper napkins and avoiding eye contact with staff if we stop for somewhere for coffee or a quick bite to eat.