Wuv, true wuv.

Greetings, friends and benefactors. Let’s talk about love today. <3

You may recall us speaking highly of our Yardsale Press friends, Bryan and Hillary. This past weekend they got married in a barn. If I had to sum it up in a phrase, the phrase would be: there was an ice cream truck. Just kidding. The phrase would be: WEDDING OF THE CENTURY.

If I were to sum it up in a lengthier format, I would make Ellen help me and it would go a little something like this…

The ceremony began with all the dapper groomsmen entering and each planting a giant cheek kiss on Tom, the wedding officiant. I could have sworn Will kissed him on the mouth but he denies it. Someone find proof.

The mere sight of Hillary in her wispy-beautiful gown set off Ellen’s waterworks.* Then Tom started speaking and Laur and El were waterworking it in stereo on either side of me for the duration of the ceremony which was short and sweet and perfect in every way. We walked down memory lane of how H&B came to be the team of ultimate cuties that they are today.

Cocktail hour for me consisted of 37 triangles of smoked gouda, working real hard to make sure my heels didn’t get stuck in the floorboards, and hugging on friends. I couldn’t stop eyeing the antique sleigh that was on display up near the barn rafters. My wine thought it seemed like a good photo opportunity but I’m glad my self didn’t pursue this further.

Ellen’s cocktail hour consisted of her and Robb finding the door that catering was entering through and standing by it so they had first dibs on all appetizers. This is not at all surprising.

People really brought their A-game on the dance floor mainly because H&B’s must plays included Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance with Somebody” and Big Freedia’s “Ya’ll Get Back Now.”  (If you haven’t seen the official music video for that song, go do that and then come back to us.) I also liked that I could make eye contact with just about anyone in the room and we would instantly boost our dance thrusters from our respective corners of the floor, no questions asked. Even when H&B announced the surprise arrival of the ice cream truck, people danced with their cones. With each willful head bang, melty plops of ice cream hit the dance floor thus creating the ideal conditions for moon walking.

Convenient. Delicious. Sprinkles.

Convenient. Delicious. Sprinkles.

We also spent a healthy dose of time with Bryan’s grandfather who wore his vintage Miller High Life shirt at Bryan’s request. This is an adorable team moment we shared together:

Stack em up.

Trying our darndest to get him to dance with us.

Shirt detail.

Shirt detail.

At the end of the night, the ride back to the hotel on a school bus involved a lengthy, heartfelt sing-a-long which was kicked off with “Ironic” from the 1995 Grammy Award-winning album Jagged Little Pill. Since I know these lyrics like the back of my hand, I took a multi-tasking approach, singing and eating a chocolate chunk cookie.

Here’s the Instagram hashtag feed from #blumsculwedding: http://www.enjoygram.com/tag/blumsculwedding

Which brings me to my final question: why can’t every weekend be like that one was? Don’t answer that. Just let it float out there in the universe.

*Other things that make Ellen cry: Cirque Du Soleil, children’s dance recitals (can be strangers), great performances on Ninja Warrior, power chords in Christmas songs.

Make believe you’re in a jungle movie

We have been known to cut a little rug in our time. Our childhood dance trophies adorn the windowsill in the back stairwell and the golden plastic Fosse ladies on the tops of them shimmer in the sunlight reminding us that our past is littered with sequins and lime green spandex. Reminding us of a time when Mancini’s Baby Elephant Walk was a chart topping hit in our minds. Did you catch that? I was acting like I now have different, more timely musical taste which is just not the case. Let’s face it: Baby Elephant Walk is my ringtone present day. I feel better now.

Another thing that happens present day is that we take Music Video Dance class regularly.  It allows us to relive the glory days and pretend like we don’t really need knee pads and aspirin to slide around on the floor on our kneecaps. It is also the only link between us and actual chart topping dance pop music. I think this story just folded in on itself. I’m confused. I’d better stop here and just show a video.


Oh sheet.

To begin, I would like to reintroduce last year’s Halloween choreographed dance to reel you in to this post.


This year, we wanted our costumes to be classics and so the natural inclination was to be sheet ghosts. In my quest to find cheap white sheets, I came upon a store called C.W. Price. From what I can tell, T.J. Maxx and Marshall’s send C.W. Price all the merchandise they can’t sell. It’s pretty much a treasure trove of pure garbage. In this trove, I found a white king sized set of sheets. Do you know what 200 thread count feels like on your face? I do. It’s akin to a mesh onion sack full of cat claws.

Who wore it best?

Now, instead of splurging and purchasing 2 flat sheets, I realized that in buying a set, someone was going to get the short end of the stick in this deal; someone was going to have to be the fitted sheet. Luckily, for some reason I’ll never understand, Ellen wanted to be the fitted sheet.

Before we started hacking up the sheets, we searched the internet to see if it really was just as simple as cutting out a couple circles. It is. However, we did get suckered into this guy’s series of astonishingly serious videos about constructing the ideal sheet ghost. We particularly like his segment on breathing:


Major accomplishments of the night:

1.) At the first party we went to, I successfully distracted a circle of people playing Kings into showing me card magic tricks instead.

2.) We made a list of all the sexy costumes we saw. Creativity points awarded to the ones at the bottom of the list.

bumble bee
cowgirl (also wearing Coach purse)
Where’s Waldo
Daria (actually saw 2 of these. La la la, la la.)
deer    (?!)

3.) No visible Dorito dust on costume after chip slam.













Proudly powered by WordPress
Theme: Esquire by Matthew Buchanan.