Happy, happy, happy sighs.
My tablecloths came today.
Tablecloths for the wedding, that is.
I have been under tablecloth induced stress for the past several weeks now, seeing that plastic tablecloth providers are not fond of the Dark Royal Blue color. They either have bright royal blue, or dark navy blue. Neither are my blue (We were originally going with plastic because we are cheap). For a while I've been toggling between which one to settle with because no one had the in between that we needed, and I wasn't willing to shell out that extra $100 to get fabric ones.
But last week? I acted on impulse and bought the dang cloths.
And today? Mother called me at work to inform me of their arrival... 2 weeks early!
(She knows just how much these little buggers mean to me.)
She said that they're more on the navy side, which is a little dark, but they're still pretty.
So I asked her to send a picture to my email...
And they are indeed dark, but they are GORGEOUS. Gorgeous, and Satin-y and luxurious looking.
People? Tablecloths have NEVER. EVER. influenced my mood as they have today.
If I was at home I would be squealing and dancing with joy.
"My wedding will be beautiful! Eeee! My wedding will be beautiful!"
But because I am at work, I will not do this.
The budget cuts are spreading funds thin, and I am not keen on giving the board reasoning to cut me.
Otherwise I will not be able to pay for these beautifully satin and luxurious table cloths. Ahem.
And this would be a sheer tragedy. (Or a satin tragedy? ha!)
These past few weeks have definitely been anything but boring.
It has been suspenseful trying to get an apartment. These people want you to turn your entire life into their hands just to allow you to pay them money to live in their smallish houses.
Social security numbers, drivers licences, current landlord's address and phone number, stock information, work place and phone number, any criminal history reports, proof of income thorough pay stubs, W-2s, and bank statements, proof, proof, proof.
When have I given any of these people any reason to suspect that I am a liar?
So I got these new boots.
My Aunt is a freak for LL Bean, and she tends to buy my family and I the clothing that goes on sale.
So every so often we receive little presents in the mail.
I know right? We are way spoiled. WAY spoiled.
Several days ago she sent me an email with a photo and a link to these crazy comfy looking boots that were on sale. (Like, seriously on sale.) They were perfect for the Alaska trip we will be going on in June (squeals of joy). I like them, so she tells me that she will get them for me.
Yesterday I got home hoping to come into my room to see a largest package on my bed from LL Bean.
And there it was!
I ripped the package open and gawked at these bootly-beauties.
They are not the most gorgeous things in the world (not like my tablecloths), but they are the most amazing boots that I have ever had pertaining to warmth and comfort.
They look like they have been knitted with love with dark brown yarn, and the inside is adorned with soft fleece luxury. At the very top is a ring of soft, brown fur (Presumably faux fur, you PITA members), with a drawstring tie to fit any calf size.
I am wearing these lovelies at this very moment.
Sergey got the day off of work today, and he was feeling extra lovely, so he stopped by my work and brought me lunch and coffee (I love it when he's all sweet and thoughtful). We met in the parking lot behind the center and I munched on delicious meat and mashed potatoes ("I'm a meat and potatoes kind of gal!") and I slurped down the coffee after discovering that the mug to the lid was wearing out and my coffee was being wasted on my shirt. It never seems to fail.
So anyway, I had forgotten to tell him about the boots.
So suddenly I hear him say, "So what, are you preparing for the Arctic?"
"Oh! My boots! Aren't they great? They're so warm!"
"Did your mom make those for you?"
I narrow my eyes, "No. She did not knit my boots for me." (My mother has just recently learned how to knit. She was a crocheting champion before, but now she has decided to take up a new challenge.)
"They look like it."
"Feel how soft they are! Why are you not excited? They are amazing! The inside is like a blanket!"
He leans over and feels the inside of my left boot.