scoot or bust!

So after my ring fund was spent fixing my little old car, we decided to venture to Wixon to check out the rings Sharon found for me. All great, one in particular VERY great, but still a bit out of our budget (since, you know, we no longer had any money to give her whether we wanted to or not). But I have faith that we'll find something perfect and that this whole vehicular fiasco was a cruel twist of fate.

To cheer me up, we hopped up to Scooterville to molest some Stellas. I have been obsessed--and do I ever mean OBSESSED--with the Stella since it was released x years ago. Of course, Ryan felt the need to break my tiny frigid little heart with his constant "suggestion" that a smaller, more modern model might better suit my "needs" and won't be "too much for me to handle" so I won't ride into a tree at 35mph and break my precious little neck. This pissed me off, but I'm good at nodding and continuing to plan the glorious day when I ride my clementine-hued Stella home sweet home. It wasn't until the sales dude kept pushing me away from my darling dream scoot that I began to get truly upset. After all, if someone walks into your shop and wants to buy the $4000 beauty, why would you talk them into the $2000 substitute? If anything, try to get them to buy the $8000 alternative, am I right? Apparently not. 150cc is a lot of scoot, and the Stella requires a lot of hands-on grimy lovins. And I am a girl shopping for her "first scooter." I immediately told him up front that I could handle--and look forward to--the indescribably bond with a machine that can only come from maintaining it, and informed him that when I lived in France, I had an actual motorcycle available to me which I rode quite frequently through the countryside amid the provincial flocks of sheep--at age 11. But no dice, he continued to recommend that I opt for the Buddy, a 50cc twist-and-go dream.
At this point, I'm still holding strong in the I-don't-care-what-you-think-I'm-buying-a-Stella department...and then the bomb drops: because the Stella, the apple of mine eye, is 150cc, it is considered the same as any other Motorcycle, and therefore not only does the insurance factor rear its ugly head, but one cannot park their 150cc dream scoot on the sidewalk or in a bike rack or around a parking meter--one must pay the high, high price of a legitimate downtown parking spot, which of course works out to about $15 a day. No 150cc for me. I'm willing to spend twice as much for the scoot, but I'm most definitely not willing to spend that much to park said scoot, as it really defeats the purpose of buying the scoot in the first place, except for the whole dream scoot obsession thing.
Naturally, all of this dream-squashing was too much for a single morning, especially right before work time arrived. I walked out of Scooterville, lit a cigarette, and let the waterworks take over on the drive to Rock Bottom. By this point, Ryan realised that I'd interpreted his advice as an insult, and taken the scoot dude's honesty and knowledgeability much the same. By the end of my shift, I'd digested everything and decided to dream on with a new scoot. And now that a week has passed, I am excited for Stella's stand-in. The Genuine Scooter Co. Buddy 50cc...in Seafoam Green. It might not be the Looker that Clem was, but I think I'll fall in love almost as easily. I'm waiting for my big check to come from school so I can put some money down and wait for the mercury to get above 32. But I can see it now--dorky helmet, giant goggles, riding gloves and all. I just need to come up with a name and $2500. And I've never been so excited for spring.

So I've decided that we can in fact afford to have everyone at Spill the Wine after all. Also, I've decided to nix the photographer and go with The Traveling Photo Booth instead, and bribe my friend Morgan Lust to shoot a bit, perhaps. I also found the perfect musician to play — a brilliant classical guitarist who likes the Beatles almost as much as we do. So yeah, the big stuff is pretty much all set. Nobody will officially book us yet, but we're pencil-ed in (how the *$#@ do you spell that)...
And we've started hunting for a new ring for me. Yes, with an actual diamond. But not a gumball diamond. We're searching for the perfect antique/vintage/estate/previously-owned piece of history. It's trickier this way because the settings that I like fit only exactly the size of diamond that was origanally set in it.





And diamonds from back then look smaller than their modern counterparts because they were all European or Old Miners' cut. But at least that means that they'll have that soft sort of sparkle glow instead of looking like something that should be at a rave or in an instrument for mind control...
I've actually found a few that I really like a lot. Usually the problem is the diamond being too "nice" for my taste (and our budget). I like old Edwardian, Art Deco, and Art Nouveau rings, so pretty much circa 1900-1930's. They are suprisingly easy to find around here, but I haven't found one yet that the diamond works for us. There is one Wixon Jewelers that's around $600-$700 that's really nice, but the diamond is a bit too sparkly and a bit smaller than we can find for the same price. So Sharon at Wixon is amazing and helping us on our hunt for a bigger diamond with a lot of colour and some inclusions that give it character. She's my new favourite person. She gets it. Nobody else gets it. But anyway, she's their estate buyer, so she said that since we WANT that she won't pass it up when she finds it (because I guess she does find it a lot, so that's good).
I'm rambling, sorry, but I'm really really sad about one teeny tiny little thing...

Break my tiny frigid little heart. I've never felt such an affinity for a piece of jewelry in my life. This is half a size too small, but the diamond is worth a few more thousand dollars than I have or want to spend. I want that setting. I need that setting. And, naturally, the jeweler REFUSES to separate the diamond from the setting. Possibly because they're not skilled, and it risks damaging the setting. Possibly because they are pure evil, I haven't decided yet.

another quarter come and gone...

...and i still haven't written anything. last quarter kicked my ass. but, today is the second day of fall quarter and i feel a lot better and i'm ready to prove myself again. on a different note, the recent engagement of two of my friends/coworkers has gotten me thinking about getting "weddinged" again, haha...(thanks for that, offbeatbride.com)

time flies

wow, i didn't even realise that it's been so long since i've posted something. i guess my mind has been tinkering far away from weddingland. school started this past week, the quarter seems promising so long as i keep on top of my workload. in other news, i just finished a little design job for a coworker. nothing fabulous, but still.

puttin' on the ritz

i was never much for all the glitz of being engaged and planning a wedding. i know a lot of people say that (and this blog might contradict it) but to be honest, i never thought--nor did my closest friends--that i'd ever get married, let alone be engaged before i hit 21. so it was only natural that when ryan and i decided to get hitched, i didn't expect a big diamond--or any diamond at all. we're both pretty broke, and to be frank, the bigger and sparklier and more impressive an engagement ring is, the more it frightens me. so we picked out a modest substitute of a small princess-cut peridot with two tiny diamonds as sidestones. since then, two very discouraging things have happened:

1. ouch...

for whatever reason, whenever i wear my engagement ring (even if it's only for a few hours) i get a rash on my finger. like, a terrible, dry, red, itchy, open wound kind of rash. my first thought was that soap or sanitizer from work was getting stuck under it and irritating my skin. but since that occurred to me, i haven't been wearing it when i have any sort of chemicals around that might get on my hands. and it still happens. then someone suggested that even though the ring is gold, many times the setting itself is made with a stronger metal, and i might be allergic to that metal. i didn't think this was the case, as i've never had a reaction to any other jewelery...but i took their advice and painted a couple coats of clear nail polish topcoat on the inside of the ring and setting. but nope, i still have a reaction when i wear it. and consequently, i've stopped wearing it.

2. ouch!!!?!

this bit i really have a problem with...because my ring has a stone that isn't a diamond, people don't take me seriously when i tell them i'm engaged or mention "my fiance." i suppose it could be that i'm young, also, but i don't really look young. people usually think i'm five or six years older than i am...but i always catch them glancing at my ring and trying not to raise an eyebrow. my typical reaction is to stare right back and secretly curse them. seriously, what is that about?! i don't want to waste money on a hunk of rock, and i don't particularly like that kind of rock to begin with, so why should i lug one around? of course, now that i need a new ring that i'm not allergic to, and have found a certain affinity with champagne diamods that have visible intrusions....i kind of want a diamond ring. and yes, it has everything to do with being taken seriously. the other day i went to talk with a vendor (sans my fiance) and she actually raised an eyebrow and said--in the snottiest voice i've ever heard from a professional--"are you even engaged?" yes i am, thank you very much. oh, and by the way, fuck you.

so now i've been secretly looking for a substitute diamond for my diamond substitute...and have fallen head over heels for a few artists on the ever-wonderful etsy.com


prime example: Rob and Leighanne Thompson

not only are their rings simplistic and gorgeous, but they do custom work as well. i've got my eye on ordering a variation of this ring. perhaps with a slightly larger diamond (champagne of course) and a thin wood inlay as seen in many of their other designs. it's androgenous enough that ryan could have a matching one (sans rock). i showed him, and he approves. i'm excited to see that their shop is open again (they'd closed it for a week or two to catch up on custom orders) and to see that their prices are very very reasonable. that's always important when ordering custom handmade pieces, but especially with our starving-artist-student budget.

conspire

so after freaking out for approximately 48 hours about trying to decide which photographer to hire two years from now, i finally snapped out of it and realised that i really did like six steps' portfolio just as much as scott's at olive. and then i realised that my subjective pre-concieved bias towards olive didn't outweigh the $3000 difference anyway. and then i realised the fact that he just happened to be sitting next to me at work the day i was searching for an acceptable (and budget-friendly) substitute could not possibly have been chance. even though i typically say that there's no such thing as luck, and usually opt for chaos theory, i cannot deny the fact that deep down i still hold onto the almost childish notion that the universe will ultimately conspire in my favour. so i called him up. and he seems wonderful. i really appreciate his humble and magnanimous philosophy when it comes to offering his talent up for such a college-student-budget-friendly price. and i think i've fallen head over heels. so that's spectacular. and now i need a post-coital (jk) smoky-treat. thank you and adieu.

anti-click?

i'm starting to freak out about the whole photographer thing. as much as i hunt for a more reasonable price tag, the more i think i want scott or no photos at all...but that's certainly not true, is it? considering that the photos are the most important bit--to me, anyway--and i feel like it's the only think i haven't cut out of the plan yet. but like i told him, i'd rather have no photographer at all than hire someone who lacks his creative eye, his talent, his knack for composition, art, and capturing emotion... arrrgghhghh...

if i was ready and willing to spend thousands of dollars on a spectacular wedding, i wouldn't be so concerned about paying over $4k for a photographer to document it. the thing is...i've sacrificed the whole wedding because i don't really care about it. i just want the photographer. but photographers (particularly the really spectacular ones) shoot weddings. not cocktail parties that don't last more than a few hours. well, okay, i'm sure they'd be happy to shoot cocktail parties that don't last more than a few hours...but they'd charge the same price as they would for shooting a wedding for eight hours. because they could book that wedding instead of the cocktail party. and that, my invisible interweb friends, is the problem. well, not the problem so much as my problem.

i'm getting ready to just beg. and i haven't even gotten to talk to him at all yet, except for a few awkward emails...

my only shred of hope here is that despite his fabulosity, he might be willing to book me a sunday evening in octobre for a lot less, since it's three hours instead of 8 or 12 hours + all the getting ready bullshit that i still don't know why brides do, unless it's merely there to fill up the 8 hour minimum that they're paying for.

okay, ryan is being impatient. i stop now. goodbye imaginary friends.