Scary Movie Fail

So last night, while flipping through the channels looking for our Thursday night Family Guy fix, I saw that Children of the Corn was on ChillerTV. And it had just started ten minutes earlier. Score.

We had both never seen Children of the Corn. All I knew was creepy kids=no sleep for Bren. But sometimes that's kind of fun, right? Especially around Halloween. And last night was the perfect night for a scary movie: cold, windy, and leaves blowing everywhere.

As we watched, Ian commented on how new the movie looked. I looked at the info and stated that it was made in 1984. But as we watched, we commented on how good quality the movie was--they were using some film techniques that were before its time. Ian, the film guru, was amazed. Bren, the fashion guru, was amazed at how the outfits were surprisingly not outdated. Because fashion makes a full circle, dont'cha know! They were wearing the same clothes back then that we do now! How creepy!

It all seemed a little fishy Ian wondered out loud if there was a Children of the Corn remake. "No!" I refuted, "it says 1984 on the TV! There is no remake!"

As usual, when a movie factoid is in question, Ian pulled up IMDB. 

Turns out we were watching the 2009 made-for-TV Children of the Corn. All of a sudden, it just didn't seem so scary. In fact, it was pretty lame.

So we flipped to On Demand to try and find an actual horror flick. And in doing so, found old episodes of Nickelodeon's Doug. SUPER SCORE.

Have a great weekend, everyone! Curl up and watch a scary movie!

Our Wedding Day: The Photographic Tour

I took a stack of wedding photos into work yesterday. I didn't want to make a big show of it, but the two girls I sit next to had wanted to see them. But it quickly turned into someone walking by, saying "oooh what's that?" "Wedding photos!" "Oooh, I want to see!"

So how could I say no to showing off the photographic evidence of the best day ever? 

People were especially amused or confused by our picks for our posed photo spots. Reactions from some of our photos ranged from "Your bridesmaids look so young!" to "Why did you take a picture in the middle of the street?" to "You walked all over campus in your dress?" 

But for real, they loved them. And I loved peeping over their shoulders with the biggest smile on my face while they flipped through, and I got to relive our wedding day--again. That's pretty much the best thing ever.

Several weeks before our wedding, I met with Meagan Jepson, our photographer, to show her the church and give her some ideas I had on where I wanted to take photos. Throughout my four years at Penn State, I had been slowly gathering potential wedding spots in my mind as I would walk to class every day. The side of Old Main on the steps? Yes. In front of the restored State Theatre? Perfect. On the stools of the College Diner? Hmm...too much? Nah. It'll be awesome. I had even come up with the perfect route for making sure to hit all the wedding spots in the short period of time that we had. Meagan excitedly scribbled them all down in her notebook, also pointing out spots in the church that would be great for indoor photos. 

It was when I went to share the ideas with other people that I had one of my only Bridezilla-esque moments. A lot of folks, including my fabulous fiance, weren't sure that we would be able to hit all of those spots in the hour that we had to take photos. The plan involved getting all 20 guys and gals of the bridal party up to Old Main, situated for photos, and then working our way down College Avenue to get the rest of the shots I wanted. Even our wedding coordinator at the Elks was hesitant to say it would work.  This might have caused a bit of a meltdown. I had been dreaming of having wedding photos at these spots for years, and I was going to make it work. Dammit. 

So after stressing the importance to everyone of how we were going to have to move quickly (and sending out a wedding day itinerary that included all the photo spots so there would be no confusion) everyone hopped in the cars and headed up to Old Main on campus after the crowd had began to disperse at the church. We had to take turns with a few other wedding parties, but we got the shots at Old Main. And they were amazing.

*Photos by Meagan Jepson Photography

Next, the bridal party got back in their cars to head up to the reception, and Ian and I made our way downtown with the photographers to get the rest of the perfect shots. And stopped for some impromptu ones along the way.

We popped into the Diner and got some of my favorite vintage-y shots.

And then made our way to the State Theatre, which just happened to have just let out of a movie so the lights were on (!!!!) and took some more of my favorite pictures. OK, they all are my favorite.

With the last snap of the camera, Meagan said it was time to head up the reception. 

Proving that, while in all other areas of my life my timing is terrible, it was spot-on for our wedding day. And I got to take our photographic tour of State College in my wedding dress.

My Most Hormonal Day Ever or: I Made Monkey Bread

Some days I think I'm a really cool wife. Other days, no matter how many times I ask my dear husband, "I just want to be a cool wife. Am I a cool wife? Are you sure?", I let my hormones get the best of me and my emotions and I turn into Bren the Weird Wife.

This is nothing new to Ian. Once he survived my first dumb meltdown (was it over a baking disaster? A stubbed toe? A glass of spilled milk? I'll have to ask him...) several years ago and assured me that he still loved me and didn't think I was crazy, I knew that he would be a keeper. However, it wouldn't have been too far beyond me to sneak something into the vows about sticking together through PMS or non-PMS-related meltdowns. You know, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, especially during that time of the month...till death do us part.

So today, I was just feeling a little cranky for no particular reason. Which is typically solved by eating food that's terrible for me. After perusing the web for a Dutch Oven Cinnamon Bread-type of recipe, I decided that it would be a fabulous day to make monkey bread. After church, I trekked down the road to Giant to pick up some yeast and the sunshine lifted my spirits a bit.

I returned home and laid out all the ingredients on the counter as gunshots and loud noises emerged from Ian's new Playstation. I rambled to him about how I was still getting used to living with a boy after coming from a house where the TV was ruled by TLC and HGTV, not video games and football (I had a lot of coffee this morning). I had my computer perched on the counter with the Dutch Oven Monkey Bread recipe and ran to the bedroom to get the chord for it. I yanked the chord from the wall, but must of yanked a little too violently, because the next thing I knew the glass of water sitting on my nightstand was all over everything near it, including the floor, some books, and our framed engagement photos still sitting on the floor.

Like I said, too much coffee.

And that's where the floodgates burst. After yelling a few bad words, more coming each time I saw a new thing that was now soaked, I stormed out to grab a roll of paper towels. Tears streamed down my face as I tried to salvage the wet photos and wipe up the wet glass. Ian heard the ruckus and came in to help, while I wailed about ruining the beautiful photos he had framed for me, and cried some more about the fact that I was crying over spilled water.

In truth, nothing was really ruined. Ian gave the pictures a few quick blasts from the hair dryer, and laid them out to dry on the floor. Other than a few wet spots on the carpet, it turned out that the world wasn't actually ending.

I emerged from the bedroom to grab a handful of tissues to wipe up my very attractive snotty nose. When Ian followed behind me, he said (cautiously), "You alright?".

I fell into a hug and then the tears started all over again. This time, maybe because I was so happy he was my husband? Or that he saved our precious photos that could be printed again from Walmart from their soggy death?

As I burrowed my face into his shoulder, I said "I'm going to make something that's really bad for us."

"Awesome", he said.

"It has two sticks of butter in it."

"Go for it."

"I'm a weird wife."

"You're not a weird wife."

And then we moved on with life. And I made monkey bread. Not until after I realized halfway through that I hardly had any flour left in the cabinet (contrary to popular belief, once you move away from home there is no magic flour fairy that makes sure your staples are always stocked) and made yet another trek to Giant sans meltdown. And realized when I got home that I was wearing my grungiest, most see-through shirt I own. You're welcome, teenage boys of the Springfield Giant.

Several hours later, the most amazing combination of yeast, cinnamon, and butter I have ever laid my little mouth on popped out of the oven.

She might be weird, but she sure can bake. Sometimes.

An Unplugged Weekend in PA

Ah, my late shift days at work. Sleeping in, lounging in the morning, arriving home when it's time to go to bed, and seeing the husband for about two hours.

On the upside, I've got time for blogging!

This weekend we had a lovely time in our central PA hometown, and let me tell you, after being away from home for as long as I ever have been, it was a much-needed return. Being in the comfort of the town that I was so ready to get out of two months ago was an odd feeling. Approaching the exit on the highway to drive down the familiar roads, where most things have gone unchanged. Seeing neighbors at the store, eating lunch at a favorite childhood spot, Mom's sticky buns on Saturday morning, coffee with girlfriends, and a night on the town with more girlfriends, including one that made a surprise trip home. Poppyseed roll from Aunt Joan and baked goods from my sister, Sunday morning in the church that we hadn't been in since our wedding day, and brunch in Amish country with Ian's family. And of course, the trip to the spa on Saturday morning wasn't bad either.

I brought my camera, but didn't really take any photos for the weekend. Sometimes, I get caught up in documenting my life for the sake of the blog, rather than for myself. Sometimes, it's nice to enjoy your days through your own eyes, and not through the camera lens.

Maybe it makes for boring blog posts, but sometimes it really is nice to spend a weekend unplugged.

(Although I did snap a few shots of the pretty trees on the way home.)

The Funky Junkie Goes to Work

You know you're a blogger when you dress for the day with your blog in mind. Only problem is, usually by the time I'm dressed in the morning for work Ian is already long gone down the road to school, which means no photographer. I've tried several times to master the self-timer-on-top-of-the-trash-can, but it usually fails.

So sometimes I snap phone pictures of myself when I'm enjoying the morning commute.

But yesterday, when Ian had a the day off, was finally the day I got some real photos of my working woman attire! Of course, this might have meant I picked out my outfit with a little extra care...

Nevertheless, I love having a job where I get to dress up (although I sometimes feel a tad overdressed!). Having only ever worked in a restaurant-related jobs, I'm now getting used to a job where my day consists of mostly of sitting in a chair, with a few trips to the printer and copy machine thrown in there. But I love skirts and heels and pretty shirts. And good hair days. And that I don't come home from work smelling like hamburgers.

I found this H&M skirt at the State College Goodwill several years ago. It's been one of those items that cycles its way in and out of my life. Now that skirts have become a weekly routine, it's found a lasting place again in my wardrobe. I love pairing it with this vintage-y looking top from Kohl's; it kind of reminds me of what you'd see on a 1970's tux.

I also love that it's Fall, and that this weekend we will be in our hometown for homecoming weekend, which means football for Ian, and spa for the Saylor ladies. Let's make this week go fast!

Hair

The result of my usual Fall hair boredom:

As long as the humidity, rain, and heat stay away, me and my hair will be very, very happy.

The Fun Fairfax Fall Festival

As a general rule of thumb, if an event includes "Fall" and "Festival", I'm there.

This weekend is the big Fairfax Fall Festival (the "Fun" was my own little touch) and I had pretty much been looking forward to it since I googled "Fall Festivals near Fairfax" back in July. It's also been on the calendar since July.

We woke up this morning at the luxuriously late hour of 8:30 am and, ready for the crisp Fall air, layered up my jeans and sweater with my new boots and a jacket. When I stepped outside, Ian said, "I think you have too many clothes on."

Ok, it was a little warm. Warmer than I would have liked. But I had to wear the boots. The sweater stayed too. Let's just say things were a little toasty.

Yes, those are shorts you see.

OK, so they were very toasty. But we so enthralled by the antiques we didn't even notice.

And then I saw alpacas.

Of course, there was an abundance of apples and pumpkins.

And then we ate some delicious pulled pork sandwiches and hot dogs, and it didn't even matter because we had already sweated off the calories! Win-win!

Fall Festival=success. Then, after braving the Northern Virginia traffic across down, I got my hairs cut. Photos coming soon!

Today is Such a Beautiful Day: The Ceremony

You know how more than anything else, I wanted my wedding to be unique, fabulous, and totally us?

Well, I kind of lied. Actually, more than anything else, Ian and I wanted our wedding to be a celebration of not only us and our relationship, but also of our relationships with our families and very special friends. A celebration that was particularly unique, fabulous, and totally us. And it absolutely was. Everything from the rehearsal dinner up through the reception had the details that we worked so hard on to inject our personality into even the traditional elements of a wedding. Especially the ceremony.

*Photos by Meagan Jepson Photography

I've noticed that in a lot of modern-day weddings, the ceremony seems rushed-through. As if everyone knows it's necessary, but just get it over with so we can get to the party. Some folks just want to do the strictly traditional readings and responses, and that's fine. However, I really wanted the ceremony to get the highlight that it deserves. It truly is, after all, the most important part; it's the part where you are married! The part where you stand up in front of everyone important in your life and promise your life to the one you love.

I also didn't want to simply stand up in front of everyone. Ian and I wanted some of the most special people in our lives to be a part in the ceremony. 

For instance, the music.

I had always known that I wanted acoustic guitars and a piano at my wedding (no organ for this girl) and there was absolutely no better people who could have provided these things for us. Joel and Zack are not only excellent musicians, but they were a big part of my growing up in FISH, my high school youth group at the church we were married at. Tim, the amazing piano man, was a youth group leader of Ian's growing up and was one of Ian's first friends that I met when we started dating. 

The ceremony began with Tim playing some beautiful piano music as the guests started arriving. When it drew near to 3:30, Zack whipped out his ukelele and played his original song, A Song About Love. You can hear the song on his Youtube channel here--I just love this song.

Next, the grandmothers and moms were sat by the ushers to the guys playing You Are My Sunshine, the song my Pop used to sing when I was a kid. It was a particularly emotional moment when my dad heard the song at the rehearsal the night before as we stood in the back; it's one of his favorites.

Although picking out the music for the ceremony was one of the hardest things, I knew that somehow, there would be a Beatles song or two. It was only fitting, so naturally, the bridesmaids walked down the aisle to In My Life.

I really didn't want to walk down the aisle to the Bridal March; it just really didn't seem me. A Beatle's song, however, did. So when Zack began to strum the opening bars of Here, There, and Everywhere, it was time for the big moment.

Even though walking down the aisle at the time took FOREVER (not only because I couldn't wait to get to Ian, but also because we had to walk sooooo slooooooow so we didn't get there before the first verse of the song ended!) I wish that I could rewind time and do that part all over again. Entering into the sanctuary and seeing a blur of just about everyone who has ever been important to me in my life, all in one place. Picking out a few particular faces, wanting to look around and wave to everyone because I was so excited that they were there, but not being able to take my eyes off Ian at the front. Walking at my dad's side, knowing that life was about to change big time and that pretty soon I wasn't going to be his little girl anymore (although I guess I always will be to him). And, oh yeah, trying not to bawl my eyes out.

I finally reached the front, my dad gave me a kiss on the cheek, and the ceremony began, which leads me to the next awesome thing about making our ceremony us: we had two pastors.

I had also always known that I wanted Anne, mother of one of my best friends/bridesmaids, family friend, and coffee mom (maybe one day I'll explain that term) to do my wedding when the day came. But I did also want someone who was a part of both me and Ian's lives to do it too. Jonathan was a former youth pastor of Ian's, longtime family friend, and the pastor of the church we had both been attending for the past year or so of dating. So what the heck. We had both of them.

Seriously though, what an awesome dynamic it set for the ceremony. I had sat down with Anne a couple weeks prior when I was writing the ceremony and she gave me guidance with the traditional readings and ideas for the order of the ceremony. Jonathan provided an awesome message and his witty and goofy personality. The two of them split the pastoral duties, and it turned out amazing. It was so awesome to be married by two important people from different times of our lives.

We had my godmother, Aunt Peg, do the reading from 1 John 4:7-19.

Everyone sang Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing, one of my favorite hymns of all time.

During the hymn, Ian looked at me and said "Remember this moment--this is our wedding!"

We said our vows, and I tried not to bawl some more.

And then we were married!

We walked/danced out to James Taylor's How Sweet it Is (To be Loved By You). Because just as naturally as the Beatles needed to be part of the day, so did James.

The receiving line took forever, but in a completely good way--I was so excited to see each and every person that came through.  

We finally burst out of those church doors into the sunshine, with the bells chiming and people cheering...

...and hopped into our totally sweet '63 Avanti, provided by good family friends the Colwells (who also provided the beautiful flowers at the ceremony!), to be whisked off to photo time.