Can you hear me now?

As I've asked Shane for his help with the planning, he has turned a deaf ear. There were moments where I sought his assistance in this matter, because it was getting too big for my britches, yet nothing. Suddenly his return from debaucherous New Orleans strikes his motivational chord. Now he's cracking the whip, “We need to brainstorm and get the checklist done,” he speaks with such authority. I laugh, of course, because his determination will be shortlived when reality gets a hold of him and spits him out.

The wedding is two months away. If you wanna get technical, 88 days and counting. Wow the reality of that countdown, made my blood curdle. Are things set in stone you ask? Can pigs fly? Planning a destination wedding is by far, frustrating and difficult. My blood pressure runs through the roof, shoulders tighten and my teeth clench at the very thought of my wedding planning.

My answers to that so called checklist sits on the shoulders of my sweet wedding coordinator. My liaison to my vendors. I thought that it would be smart to hand her my workload as she maintains a working relationship with my vendors. Who am I, but a self-absorbed bride with fangs and claws seeking blood, if it’s less than perfect. I have prevented myself from speaking with my vendors, because I trust that my wedding coordinator can do a better job at conveying my ideas and expectations.

My invitations awaits on the address of the wedding reception. I’m pretty much stuck in a rut until I discuss further details with the wedding coordinator. She has alleviated my spurts of demands, but my stress level has not ceased.

I keep telling myself to stop being a psychotic babbling baboon. The guests won’t care about the food, the entertainment, and the environment. Somehow that logic doesn’t seem to silence the shattering screams in my head that sounds a little like, “ I don’t want a sit down dinner! I hate mashed potatoes! Why couldn’t the caterer use orzo, quinoa or couscous something light for fart’s sake. I gotta get the invitations out. I need to get a hold of my wedding coordinator. We need to finish the cranes. I should call my brother. Should I call my relatives in Hawaii so they can actually get things done? No thanks. Florists. Flowers, do I even need flowers? Centerpiece, I never gave a craps butt about centerpieces at weddings. Favors, people just throw them away. I need to call the wedding coordinator. The wedding coordinator, I need to speak to her, should I have shane deal with her, since he’s home? I’ll email her, but I think that I should call her to cover my basis. “ On and on, this snowball grows.

To put your expecations in someone’s hands and have them pull through with a vision, definitely tests level of patience. My patience flourishes eagerly as holes in the lining of my stomach.

This is Shellie from the surgery room bidding you serenity now!

Namaste

Shane called as soon as he landed in New Orleans. They had a 5am flight this morning and so he pretty much kept me up all night with his anxious tossing and turning. Meanwhile, I've never experienced a group of men that is so motivated. Geeze, you'd think they were flying to the moon or something.

I am at the head of my three-day weekend and still no plans. I am the worst when it comes to plans. The only certainty that I have this weekend is working out at the Dailey Method, a series of yoga, Pilates and bar ballet, and cardio. Also, maintaining that unrealistic diet of low sodium, no cheese, and no booze. Yeh, well I know it sounds far fetched, but I succeeded in ceasing to smoke since January 1, 2005. If I can quit smoking, than I can do absolutely anything! The world is my oyster and if I have to pry that sucker open, that pearl is mine.

I grew up in an environment where positive reinforcements were unapparent. My childhood was very difficult, but in the long run, it was my vessel for strength to strive harder and work harder for everything. I had either two options to drown or to swim. I wanted to thank my family for giving me the strength to sustain and the power to strive.

This is Shellie from the center of my heart bidding much love to the world.

Boys Gone Wild!!!!

Release the cages, because the wild animals are running rampant in the streets of New Orleans. They’ll be kicking up dirt , growling and licking their chops . Shane's bachelor weekend will be lewd, nude, XXX and crude. A group of loud, horny men, as stealth as an elephant doing crazy eights on rollerskates at a funeral.

"I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone, but they've always worked for me." Hunter S. Thompson

While Shane will be involved with absolute insanity and debauchery, I've got nothing planned. Zip. Zilch. I have Los Angeles on the brain, but I fear that would intrude on my diet and lifestyle. I have a date with my couch and television and if I really want to get wild and crazy, I might throw in a bowl of carrot sticks and call it a threesome! I think nuns party harder than I do.

This is Shellie from the Bingo tournament signing out to Shane and his boys to get…how did Christina Aguilera say it best, “DIRTY!!!!!”

Getting over that hump

For the next two weeks, I have committed to no alcohol, no cheese, low sodium or, in human terms, salt. This is on the same vein as a mental disorder. These two weeks will determine the size of my pudge that sits in a series of layers above my strong lean stomach muscle. Peek-a-boo! I think I see you? Hiding underneath that bulge of a belly is a tenth of my fantasmic Janet Jackson abs. I know everyone must think that I'm a twig, but your highly mistaken. Underneath these baggy clothes, is one fudgy flabby friend I like to call my enemy.

Anonymous Proverb: Life is like a sewer... what you get out of it depends on what you put into it.

I’ve been working out like an insane person about 4 to 5 times a week. My journey to being fit and sculpted is a very slow and moving road. Working in an office sucks, because I’m sitting on my arse all day. Ah, but my office is furnished with it’s own personal gym, but who wants to sweat with their co-workers. Ew. Gross!

Now Trimspa, there’s a sure escape. Did the FDA just make uppers legal? I think so! A pill that supresses my appetite meanwhile sleep is as far away as china, now there's my answer. The only thing that Anna Nicole Smith picked up was a pill popping habit and an all access pass to the plastic surgeon. The only time she got on her feet was to strut to the bank to get her dead husbands, god rest his soul, check cashed.

The reason for my manic anxiety is that I'm two weeks away from Miami Beach. Can you feel the pressure? Miami Beach has got me poking and prodding at my physical imperfections. What is wrong with me? I thought Los Angeles was terrible. Los Angeles is Miami’s red headed stepchild. Gulp. My vanity level has just gone through the roof. Mom would shake her head with disapproval. I can hear her now, "dis not de awtside dat counts, but de inside iz what matters de moist." My filipino berssssion of me mudderrrr.

Wedding? What wedding? Of course, I kid. “Gasp,” said my wedding coordinator. She would beg to differ. Her eyes has observed my manic panic attacks compliments of email. Sweep. Sweep. Under the rug it goes.

The only thing that matters is that there is chockfull of fun to be had in celebration of Sophia’s bachelorette. And looking tip top among my peers! Oh did I say that outloud?

This is Shellie making her usual lipo donation to the Lips of Celebrities Foundation, pleading that this pudge will not budge.

Happy Hump Day (that's long for Wednesday)

I am only as strong as the coffee I drink, the hairspray I use and the friends I have. To the cool women that have touched my life. Here's to you! For the permanent crazy psychotic females, the skies the limit when your looking up from the bottom of that barrel.




It is good to be a woman:
1. We got off the Titanic first.
2. We can scare male bosses with the mysterious gynecological disorder excuses.
3. Taxis stop for us.
4. We don't look like a frog in a blender when dancing.
5. No fashion faux pas we make, could ever rival the Speedo.
6. We don't have to pass gas to amuse ourselves...well I don't know about that.
7. If we forget to shave, no one has to know.
8. We can congratulate our teammate without ever touching her rear end.
9. We never have to reach down every so often to make sure our privates are still there.
10. We have the ability to dress ourselves.
11. We can talk to the opposite sex without having to picture them naked.
12. If we marry someone 20 years younger, we are aware that we will look like an idiot.
13. We will never regret piercing our ears.
14. There are times when chocolate really can solve all your problems.
15. We can make comments about how silly men are in their presence because they aren't listening anyway.

Unleash the Clowns

The wedding date is coming up something fast and fierce. I’m still unorganized as crap. The groom hasn’t started to figure out what he or his boys are wearing at the wedding.

We, Shane and I, are very careless with time. Or maybe it’s that we’re very carefree individuals a.k.a. can’t seem to get our turd together.

I’m just pissed maybe even jealous, because I wandered aimlessly through the valley of Hades to find this bad ass dress. Only to find that we’ll be exchanging vows on our wedding day and he’d be rockin' a Charlie brown golf shirt alongwith pleated golf shorts. I wouldn't be surprised, if he carried his putting club around for joke sake. This is why I love him soo much, it's because this is who he is. Furthermore, his perspective on the wedding is just a smidge polar from mine. Ugh.

Japanese Proverb: Vision with action is a daydream; action without vision is a nightmare.

"Why bother?" I ask myself. What’s so special about six hours in one day? After a few hours of festivities, the circus shuts down. The clowns go home. The lions, elephants and tigers go back to their cages. Will our guests really appreciate the research that's been invested into the wedding favor? What is all the damn fuss in planning a wedding? Why seek to perfect it? When everything in my life just is.

Our relationship is sweet! I’m thankful that our relationship isn’t chaotic or one sided. Neither of us are “tyrannical hypochondriac temperamental gotta have my cake and burger too” type whack jobs. So what’s the problem?

I can admit, without a singe of doubt in my heart, that we are wealthy in happiness. Privately, you wouldn’t know it, but we’re pretty sappy. I mean “gag me with a fork and puke on my neck” sappy. Sure there’s moments when it can get unnerving, but it wouldn’t be a healthy relationship otherwise.

So why is the wedding planning have to be as such? Head. Hurts. Make. It. Stop. At this very moment, this one second, I have realized that the wedding is never for us. It's for our friends and family that circled our lives up to this point. It was never about us or about me, I would rather surround ourselves with love and share it with the ones we love. That my friends is my interpretation of a wedding. So bring on the dancing sheep!

This is Shellie from the cotton candy factory telling all you children to consume as much sugar as possible so you can drive your parents absolutely mad with insanity.

Good Luck Muth@Fu---ah !

I wanted to send a farewell to Ms. Jennifer “Muth@Fu---ah Fashionista” Minnitti, because today is her last day as Associate Dean at California College of the Arts. With a fancy title like that, I still don’t know what she does. I do know that she is an encyclopedia of fashion, media and art.

One of my faithful readers, is going on to the path of teaching yoga and eventually moving to Costa Rica. If anyone’s looking for a decent yoga teacher, she is it. Cough-YogaLoft-Cough. In the beginning, she might make you feel inept with her very slender and toned physique, but you’ll get over it. Besides all the technical stuff, she is a genuinely extremely entertaining and a phenomenal person. Wink. Miami Gnudge.

African Proverb: If you're not living on the edge... you're taking up too much room.

In the meantime, I think she’ll be sleeping in to noon while Mooka ,her puli dog, rummages havoc in their loft.

Good luck to you in your shiny new endeavor! Darren better rake in the bucks, because her crime for fashion is not cheap. Plus, her wine problem is getting expensive. Don't you think? --kidding.

This is Shellie telling everyone to board that spaceship and ride!

P.S. Minniti-no one will assume that the picture of the puli is you so just put your Marc Jacobs coat back on and walk out with style.

Flower Power

Have you ever noticed how atrocious flower girl dresses are? Well check out modernbride.com, theknot.com or elegantbride.com. There’s nothing elegant about it. I thought that flower girl dresses are supposed to be playful. Fun damnit! Instead, they’re so. How should I put it…Jon Benet Ramsey. Ew. Freaky Creepy.

Italian Proverb: Eggs have no business dancing with stones.

Penny for your Thoughts?

I would like to know what the ethical code for this situation.

Japanese Proverb: One kind word can warm three winter months.

With great regret, we were unable to afford Alison of AlisonEvents.com. It's unfortunate as she was a wonderful wedding coordinator.

Here's where the thorn gets sharp, since she had previous engagements in Kauai, (visiting her friends) she offered to check out Waimea, the former wedding location, while she was there. The vital action is that she "volunteered" to check out the site. In addition, she had located a phenomenal caterer. Basically, the presence of an agreement was inexistent.

After a grueling decision, we notified Alison of the awful news. Yada, yada, yada she emailed us a bill for $650 for her services which includes research and such. Layman's term $100/hour.

We appreciate her wonderful efforts, but she did not discuss her hourly fees, whatsoever. I would love to compensate Alison. Especially, when she provided that Harbor House was a complete dud. Moreover, she located Kauai Cuisine, a remarkable caterer considering. Yet, I don't think a bill for $650 is flippantly sufficient. Here's where an agreement would come in handy.

This is Shellie wrestling with her conscience and if I wasn't mistaken, trying to do good for the world, back to you Bob in the studio.

Mom Superb

Mom still lives in Hawaii. Hawaii is the home to warm beaches, heartfelt ocean breeze, lush mouthwatering tropical fruits, tall coconut trees and majestic mountains. I can honestly say that if there’s anything that I miss most about home is mom.

Mom is the sweetest and generous, hands down. She's diabetic, but she consumes sugar like it is permanently fashionable. She’s goofy and roundabout, she tells stories that has nothing to do with absolutely nothing. She can never follow a movie ever! Her laugh, especially when she's laughing at herself, is hilarious. Her spurts of paranoia is better than television! She scrambles the house in search of her eyeglasses, as it ironically sits atop of her head. The last, but not least, her ongoing fetish for the flea market or anything that’s on discount. This, I swear, is so she can boast to everyone on how cheap the purchase was. She lives for dad and her ten children, but sometimes I think she lives more for the discount. Smile. That’s what’s so lovable about her. A woman after my own heart.

Filipino Proverb: If you make a habit of buying things you do not need, you will soon be selling things you do.

She'd cook breakfast for us every morning before school. When we'd come home she'd be in the process of making us a snack. Those memories flow so smooth and that is why mom is the coolest of cool!

She was never a pushover. She stuck to her guns, as needed. She was consistent with rules. Like that one time, I wanted to attend catholic school, because I thought uniforms were so fab. She was strict and unbending. Slumber parties over a friends house. Ha! Never. Boyfriend? Now that's a gas! She made a commitment to never break the chain of consistency with the children. Each child would experience the same standard conditions as the previous. Mom was solid like solidarity.

Now that we're grown and away, I know that mom is pining for her children. We have gone through a lot, my mom and I. I can’t apologize enough for torturing her through my teenage years. If she only knew of my outrageous behavior in my early twenties, why she would probably have a seizure. Somehow deep in her soul of souls, her intuition never failed her. I’m sure they were many nights where she’s been awakened startled and out of breath. She was probably like what trouble has my darn kid gotten into this time? Meanwhile in San Francisco, I was probably going through some insane life crisis drama attack. As usual, mom would call me in the next few days. Mom intuition magic. It's whacky!

Mom is consumed by worry. As an avid catholic, my mom’s famous quote, “if god permits.” The future is unspoken for we know not what god has rolled up his sleeve. So my mentioning travel’s next year or a wedding would finish off with, “if god permits.”

Each year is another year older for mom. Every year, I forget to send a card, gift or flowers. I know that she is aware that she's my favorite. I didn’t forget to send her flowers this year, but I did forget the card. I know that she will be ecstatic to know that, for once, I was thinking of her.

I don't think that flowers or any gift really compares to the fact that when I'm a mother, I can only hope that I will be just like her. If god permits.

Morning Fuzz

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“Wake me up! Before you go go. Don’t leave me hangin’ on like a yo yo.” Wonderful lollipop images of George Michael danced in my head.

Chinese Proverb: A rat who gnaws at a cat's tail invites destruction.

To think that all the signs were there, the perfect l’oreal hair, the short shorts and green fluorescent gloves, you know the ones with the fingers cut off. Of course, he was on the other team. It just got so confusing as a teenager. Between Ozzy and Motley Crue, they wore more makeup than Tammy Fay Baker meanwhile shouting at the devil. How was I to know?

Anyway, before I go further on the eighties tangent, that is what I woke up to this morning. I had to peel myself out of bed to that oh so catchy tune! Shane, on the otherhand, is another story. He languidly pressed the alarm to snooze. We were out last night getting a spoonful of Cinco de Mayonnaise. I seem to remember him harangueing about working a double the next day. My drinking just equals to selective hearing. I mean it's not like fiancee's don't put us on mute either?

Here he is fifteen minutes prior to starting his day and he’s already groaning about it. Sure, I sit pretty in an office, but Shane really busts his balls. Working with his hands and on his feet all day. Laborious. I will never take him for granted. I gently tried to cheer him up. I stood over him brushing my teeth in my full bottom undies shaking my butt in his face to some crappy pop song that was playing on M"poop"TV. He escaped my hyperactive seizure by turning over.

I could not escape our bedroom. It's carpeted with clothes from my daily morning outfit tangents. These slacks don’t go with this shirt. This shirt makes me look fat! Off and away that shirt goes into reject neverland a.k.a. bedroom floor. I decide to do a weather check which forecasts for rain. Off with my white slacks and on with black slacks, yes that means the cycle starts all over. New blouse with what shoes? The circle of vanity builds high until the bedroom floor is just a conundrum of laundry.

There my desk sits covered with documents, wine glasses, sixteen ounce water bottles. The computer is beautifully dressed in a film of dust. The Ipod that I dearly wanted is sitting in it’s pretty box from three weeks ago. Funny? The word maid or cleaning woman keeps popping into my head.

This is Shellie from the bottom of her fresh clean laundry scrambling to find the best outfit to my laziness.

P.S. In a few days, I will be addressing the wedding plans so get ready to here my gripes or my relief.

Más tequila ahora

Feliz el 5 de mayo usted munchers de queso!

I have not been writing as much, due to having too much fun!

My favorite chinese proverb for today: Do not remove a fly from you friend’s forehead with a hatchet.

Kurt and Sophia whizzed us off to Napa last Saturday afternoon. We had a couple tastings at cakebread. We’re as serious about wine as we are about American Idol. Not much. I love wine, but don’t ask me about varietals, tannins, sharpness, balance or the bouquet that contributes to the complexities. Not a wine geek.

Anyway, the best thing about this trip was having a late lunch at Bouchon! What a dream! Some girls love shoes. Others love clothes. My fashion is food! A friend of a friend got us a reservation. So my heart goes out to Mr. Goddi for actually pulling this off at 3am in the morning the night prior. Wow! I guess some people really come through. Anyway, it was the best meal I’ve had, since mother’s milk. The dishes were simple and made with the freshest of fresh ingredients. The dishes just blew my mind. Sean, the sommelier, was just outright clever and, to say the least, generous. Bouchon is my hollywood. As Thomas Keller, once again, has pulled it off. I have two words foie gras! The mortal sin strikes again.

Yesterday, I had the pleasure of playing softball in the SBC ballpark. Can I just say that I was in awe! Sipping a cocktail in the giants dugout. Practicing my hits in the giants batting tunnel. Camera men following the team around play by play. I would just like to say that it's been a great month so far! Love it.

Tonight, I look forward to stuffing my farce. I mean face, huh, with Mexican food and top it off with the only the best. Come on I wanna feel ya. I meant Tequila.

So you see, I’ve put a bit of a delay on the wedding planning as there is too much going on right now. In a couple weeks, Miami. Tha. Tha. Tha. Thong.

This is Shellie Cadelinia bidding you ¡Ah mi Dios! ¿Eso es algún queso en sus cajones?