Oh, people. The stress of moving. The stress of MY CAT moving. The fact that The Candyman can't stand a stair step below me while I just huuuuuug on him at eye level. I seriously have no idea how I will emotionally endure. Boo Hoo. Poor me. Yes, I shall continue to wallow in my own self-pity at least through the long weekend. I owe it to myself, me thinks.

And I have things to bitch about this week.

We all know how incredibly vain The Thirty-Something Bride is, right? I mean, you people saw my hair and make-up budget. I spent $624 on my HEAD. For one day. Worth every mother-fucking penny too. I think I might have said that a time or two as well (the worthiness of the money spent, not the MF-bomb). So now that we are on total financial lockdown again (essentially The Candyman is kinda unemployed, kinda not), there is absolutely no way in hell I can justify the amount of money I spend to cut and color my hair. None whatsoever. I tried. I really did. I just cannot find anything that says that dropping $230 every three months on YOUR HEAD is an OK thing to do. It's totally not. I mean, my stylist does a fabulous job and has been worth budgeting for. I've been going to her for the last 6 years but paying a LOT of money for my hair to look, well, like natural hair seems excessive right now.

And here's the thing, I don't think my stylist particularly likes me. I think she tolerates me. She never seems happy to see me. She seems to be annoyed by me worrying about my budget. I always ask her to explain my options, even though I usually get the same thing every time maybe just a hair (no pun intended) lighter or darker, depending on the season. She just does really good hair, so I kept going. And what do I care if she likes me or not? I'm paying her to do a good job and she does it. So there you go.

So I decided to DIY my own hair color. Yes, it's true. I was scared to go to another stylist. I used to color my own hair years ago, so why couldn't I do it again, right? Of course! I am certainly confident in my DIY abilities. I mean I did my own invitations, why not my own hair? I had no idea what brand of color to get. I did some research on-line. I tweeted the question and got little assistance (ahem). I put feelers out on Facebook and all my gal-pals were like, "Bitch, just pay the damn stylist, quit bothering us with actual questions and post some meaningless Facebook crap instead!" I actually called my stylist and asked if she could recommend a brand (I don't suggest doing this, by the way). No help anywhere. So I went out on my own and did the deed.

Oh. No. Yeah, it pretty much looks like shit. It's WAY too dark and just too brown. I'm more of a natural auburn kinda girl. It just looks flat and dead and sucky to the nth degree. It's been over a week now and I'm still pretty much hating it. So, say hello to the daily Bradshaw Bun.   

Source

This is pretty much my go-to hair style on crap hair days. I can rock the messy bun like nobody's bidness. But who wants to wear their hair back every damn day, ending with a nasty pony-tail headache? I do not. But my hair just looks so dull and sucky. SUCKY! So what did I do? I made a freakin' hair appointment, that's what. However, I did not make it with my old stylist. I will take a HUGE flying leap and will go with someone new. But not thatnew. She does know me and my hair. Who? WHO? You ask? I'm going with Julie Marler from J.Bangs Salon. She's the lady who did my hair and make-up for my wedding. She's a color specialist. She totally "got" my hair and how to do it. AND, she's like half the cost of my other stylist. THAT is a good thing. I couldn't get in for another week, but I can live with the Bradshaw Bun until then.

So I think we can ascertain that when it comes to vanity, it's all about my hair. There are a couple of other things that I get my panties all hitched up about, but my main focus is my mane. I have  friend who seems to OBSESS over mascara. She curls and re-applies throughout the day and I have no understanding of this whatsoever. And I went to college with a girl who DEFINITELY had a lipstick/gloss obsession. She would NOT leave the confines of her bedroom without a thick, protective shield. So, do you have a thing? Are you freakish over a particular product or part of our face/body? Do you know WHY? That's what I want to know. Why do I care so much about my hair when for the most part, I wear it back or up? Sheesh, why can't obsessions at least makes a little sense?

There is nothing more excruciatingly exhausting than moving. I think my current exhaustion is exacerbated by complete morons. Allow me to elaborate.

When we cut the deal for my house, the buyer wanted a 9/3/2010 closing date. A-OK with us! So the realtor set that up with the title/escrow company who later emailed me requesting highly personal information via email. They needed to get my payoff amount from my mortgage company Uh, hi! Wrong.  No, I will NOT email you my Social Security number and I don't give a flying fuck who you work for. And what kind of financial institution actually requests info via email like that? Already, I am suspect.

So I ended up calling the chick and working out what we needed. I had asked her and my realtor about what happens with my mortgage payments, my home owner's association fees and all the other bullshit you have to deal with when you buy/sell a house. I was told that it would all be handled by them. Excellent. One less thing, right?

So yesterday (August 30th) I receive a letter from my mortgage company dated August 25th stating that a payoff amount had been requested and if it was anything other than a refinance situation, that I needed to contact them within FOUR business days to request the cancellation of my auto-draft payments. I close on September 3rd. For those of you not willing to do simple math in your blog reading (and I totally get that), yesterday was LESS than four business days.

So I call the mortgage company anyway and try to cancel the auto-draft. The person I spoke with was in India. I got so pissed because:

A) I couldn't understand her. Now, I understand LOTS of accents. I can muddle my way through a conversation in broken English like nobody's business. I speak ChinEnglish (Chinese + English) and HindEnglish (Hindi + Englsh) for crissakes. Fluently. So the fact that I couldn't understand her means that bitch did NOT have a command of the English language that was grand enough to talk to people about their freakin' mortgages. CitiMortage? You FAIL.

B) Why the fuck was I attempting to Swiffer the kitchen floor after two solid days of packing and loading all of our crap AND talk to some Indian lady when this shit should have been taken care of by the title company?

C)Why couldn't the mortgage company do the simple math it takes to know that by the time I get the damn letter, my four required days will be GONE? Oh wait, I know! The more money they can get from a person and hold onto for  ANY period of time means more interest for them. Fuckers.

OK, so I end up hanging up on the Indian lady because she was much like an American: when I told her that I couldn't understand her, she spoke exactly the same, only LOUDER. Stupid.

Then I called the title and escrow lady. She's all, "Well if the draft posts by the first of the month, or even on the second, I can request another payoff amount and we can still close on the third." Being the well-prepared woman I am I ask, "What if it doesn't? What happens if my mortgage drafts in full for the month of September? Then what?"

Complete. Silence.

Then....

"Well, that's why I always write my checks out and never leave anything to automation. You just never know!"

What I Said in My Head:

"Listen you fucking twat, I don't give a rat's ass what you do. I travel for a living. To foreign countries. For extended periods of time. I can't just stop in the middle of Delhi and write out my little Bank 'o America check and drop it in the little dark blue postal box on the corner and know that my check will be delivered to CitiMortage no later than the 5th of each month. Even if the little blue postal box existed (which they don't, just in case you don't know), I'd have to dodge a starving cow to do so, at the very least (which I actually had to do once to get to an ATM)."

What I Actually Said:

"Aweome. So happy for you. What happens if it doesn't draft?"

Title Twat:

Again, silence. Then,

"I guess you'll be paying more than you should at closing."

In My Head:

"Here it comes. Here it comes! Wait for it! Wait for it!"

Out of My Mouth:

"And?"

Title Twat: 

"That would be bad."

In My Head:

GOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Out of My Mouth:

*Dripping with sarcasm* "That's right! And so how can we avoid this?"

From that point on she was basically worthless and I couldn't get off the phone fast enough. So I called my bank to attempt to stop the bank draft. That chick was way cool and smart and was totally nice and helpful, but was unable to actually stop the draft because it had already been submitted, though not posted. I spoke with my realtor today and it appears that if it drafts we can work around it - unless the closing laws change before Friday, which apparently could totally happen.

So if all that wasn't annoying enough, I get an email today from DirectTV telling me that my monthly bill will draft on September 13th. You know the account? The account that I put on suspension 2 weeks ago starting on 8/30? Yes, that account. They want to auto-draft for next month. On a suspended account. Another phone call. More automation. Less stupidity and less "in my head" conversations, but aggravating nonetheless.

I have a simple question: WHY ARE PEOPLE SO STUPID? I do what I'm supposed to do. I cancel accounts, I write down cancellation numbers, I follow the rules. Yet, I am still tormented and plagued by the idiocy of automation and foreign call centers.

My sanity is teetering on the brink of "PRESS ONE FOR ACCOUNT BALANCE. PRESS TWO FOR PAYMENT. PRESS THREE TO REQUEST SERVICE." What happens when I need option 27.63? WHAT DO I PRESS THEN?

Tomorrow's post might be more uplifting. Check back and we'll see. Tonight begins my new living digs sans The Candyman.  He's only been goine a few hours and I already miss him soooooo much. Lame. The next two months are going to suck.

This is how I feel:

Source

 Source

And I couldn't be more excited....

Not.

I hate packing. I hate moving. I've done it so many effin' times it's sickening to think about. I'm going to try to list all that places I've lived. I'm going to give it shot because I haven't mentally done this list in a really long time. I'm sure my mother, who is currently in Prague, is having a good ol' damn time and I'm sure feeling ZERO remorse for me right now will be able to correct the early years of my infancy, but I'll give it my best known shot. And before I do that, a shout-out to ma mere, it's her birthday today.

So let's see if I can do it. I'm counting any place I lived longer than 3 months. I am NOT counting summer moves in college except for the one where I had an internship in another state. If I were to include the college year moves from dorm rooms and sorority house rooms and crappy apartments, the list would be twice as freakin' long.

Born: Cherry Point, NC

California

New Jersey

Yuma, AZ

Iwakuni, Japan

Beaufort, SC

Quanitco, VA

Kailua, Hawaii

Springfield, VA

Grand Prairie, TX

Athens, GA

Bloomington, IN

Atlanta, GA

Bloomington, IN

San Diego, CA

Simi Valley, CA

Burbank, CA

Studio City, CA

Chicago, IL

Oak Park, IL

Nashville, TN

And perhaps this is where it comes full circle; The Candyman and I are headed BACK to my birth state of North Carolina.

I had a mini-melt-down yesterday. What if I can't find a job? What if I can't find a job in my field? I've worked so hard to be where I am in my career. I have endured some really crappy positions and horrible bosses. I really love what I do. I keep feeling that all I've worked for will be for naught. What happens now that I'm following my husband's job instead of my own? What does that mean? You know, I'm still trying to define my new married self. I'm still really selfish about my life. I'm really trying not to be, but it's super hard. I think this is the one bad aspect of having not found The Candyman until later in my life. I spent so much time looking out for number one, that it's very difficult to include my husband in all of my thinking and planning. I do things the way I do them because that's the best way to do them. I should know, I've done it before. Practice makes perfect, so do trial and error and I've had my share of both practice and failures.

And that right there is my father talking. The difference between me and my dad is that he is really good at communicating why his way is best and at convincing people to do it his way. Me, not so much. I'm all, "Just do it. Trust me." And that's really not enough (or fair) because if The Candyman says that to me? Oh, it's like game ON. I want to know why I should do it his way. I want to know a step by step plan of execution as to why I should do it any way other than my own, self-tested and self-approved way.  

Even with packing. I've done the majority of the physical packing (taping boxes together, wrapping the stupid shit I should give away and taping the boxes shut). The Candyman has been moving things in and out of the attic ever since we decided to sell the house. This is NO small feat. However, since we're doing things at slightly different schedules and in different areas of th house, I feel very alone. More alone than when I was single and moving.  This makes me angry because I HATE feeling vulnerable. It pisses my off more than anything I can think of. It makes me angry at The Candyman because I feel like we're supposed to be a team and he's not helping me. But he is totally helping me and I just don't get why this is so emotional. I think it's because I really like Nashville. It's the first place I ever moved to where I knew I could stay forever if need be. That is NOT a normal feeling for me.  

I'm trying to figure all this out. I know I don't want to be without The Candyman (oh, fuck - here come the waterworks) for 2 months. We'll be apart for our first anniversary, unless we can figure out a way not to be without too much of a blow to our finances. I am hating the work situation more than ever. It's an exercise in patience every damn day and I think most of you who know me understand why this might be a tad difficult. I'm going to be living with a friend for the next 2 months, a very generous friend to whom I am entirely grateful. But I'm going to be out of my element again. I mean, I'm going to be a roommate. I haven't had one of those since way back in Burbank. We don't have a place to live in Charlotte yet and we're going to have to rent for at least a year. That feels like such a step backwards to me. I mean, I've owned my own home and now I have to rent? What. The. Fuck?  Because you know what that means? It means  that when we do finally buy, we'll have to move. Again. Sigh.....

And that's assuming we'll be able to buy. What if The Candyman's firm doesn't do well? What if I end up blogging for a living versus continuing my career? What then?

The Candyman's voice of reason yesterday was that because of my career, because I'm a money-saving FIEND and because the Karma Gods were keeping a sharp eye on things, we are actually able to make this move and still be OK financially. I mean, once I sign on the dotted line next week, I will have ZERO debt. My car is paid for, my house will be sold. I carry zero balance on my credit cards. I owe nothing. The Candyman has a car loan and some pretty hefty student loans but no credit card or "bad" debt.  We'll have to pay for health care and that might as well be a fucking mortgage payment it's so expensive. OK, it's not that bad, but it's close. It's more like making a car payment for a monstrosity like a Lincoln Navigator (probably the most ridiculous car on the road). So I think compared to most people, we're doing well in this horrid economic crisis.

And here's a little side bar, I was pricing out heath care last week. Get this, if I opt IN for the maternity care aspect of the health care it's like $250 extra a month. Just in case I get pregnant. So, if you pay for health care and you choose not to be covered by this "maternity clause" and you do get preggers, then the preganacy wellness and birth are NOT covered. Really? That seems totally fucked to me. There was a company I worked for once whose coverage included vasectomies and tubal ligation, but would not cover birth control pills. They did cover maternity. How is that even right? And to top it off, COBRA is more expensive than individual health care. I thought COBRA existed to help you financially transition from one coverage to another. Can someone PLEASE explain this to me?

So I should really be looking at all of this as an opportunity for something really great, right? I know I should and perhaps I eventually I will. All I know is that right now I'm big fucking stress ball and I'm scared as shit. And I just checked the weather. It looks like it's going to rain. On moving day. Excellent. And this is how God is fair. It did NOT rain on my wedding day after weeks of gloomy skies and torrential down pours. It could rain on my moving day. Fair trade, don't you think?

So, as soon as I finish this post, I'll be packing up the desktop and will be out of communication for a day or two until I get settled in my new digs and I say a temporary farewell to The Candyman. I'll see you on the other side.

 Keep your fingers crossed fo me, will ya?

You guys! First and foremost, my heartfelt thanks to all of you for the incredible and amazing job we all did spreading the work about Thistle Farms. I have a second cousin, once removed (yeah, we're SOUTHERN!) who lives in Taiwan. She posted it on Facebook. Someone she knows bought some product on-line! One of my Chicago friends bought a Lip Smoothie. Another reader wants the gift baskets for her maids! This lovely chain of events makes me so happy I could pee. Or SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! I think I'll SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! I'm excited to count up all the comments and tweets and Facebook links! Can't wait!

So now that The Thirty-Something Bride housekeeping is complete, I am SO STOKED to feature this Unfake Wedding. Again, a really weird chain of events lead me to this incredible wedding. One of my high school friends is friends with the bride's sister. My friend commented on a Facebook picture from the wedding of her friend's sister and it ended up in my Facebook feed. Follow that? No matter, all I know is that this is one of the most kick-ass weddings I've ever seen. I think I might want to be this bride when I grow up. So without further ramblings, I'd like to present the latest Unfake Wedding of Abby and Rogan!

The most important question: wedding night…did you or didn’t you?

Um…absolutely

Please share with me the vendors you used.  

Photographer  Josh Hailey Studio

Band  Glen David Andrews Band New Orleans, LA

Reception Venue  My sister’s gorgeous yard!

Ceremony Venue  A stage/amphitheater/chapel my Dad built in the field next to my sister’s house. He used Cyprus salvage wood from an old tenant house in the Mississippi Delta 

Transportation  Rock Star Taxi Oxford, MS  

Guest Hotel  Downtown Inn Oxford, MS

Flowers  My Mama’s dear childhood friend, Janie Simpson (jbsimpson68@bellsouth.net)

Dress  Vintage Finery - Costumes & Complete Bridal in Orrington, Maine, (207) 825-4142 and the help of my brilliant seamstress, Shirley Maiden, of Maiden Lane Antiques in Manchester, VT 802-362-2004

Accessories  My seamstress made the veil, my shoes came from Seychelles Footwear and my stunning necklace was a commissioned piece by designer Eleanore Hayes of Luna Moth Designs.

Hair/ Make-up  My hair was expertly tussled by Palmer Brown of Austin, Texas’s Gilt Studio and make-up was of my own hand with the help of a handful of favorites—Chanel’s rouge allure in Passion and lots of M.A.C.’s Strobe Cream to name a few

Men’s Dress  Linen blazers from J.Crew and silk-screened ties from Ties That Don’t Suck.

Catering Cocktail hour with cured meats, home-made pickles, Vermont cheese, and local honey from Chef Rogan Lechthaler (aka My Honey). As well, with help from Chef John Stokes of 208 in Oxford, MS- 662-234-0005.

Cake  Rather than a cake, we found a Jackson, MS institution in 83-year-old Ms. VanVelkingburg, who made not only her classic vanilla petit fours, but also strawberry and chocolate.  I preferred these two-bite-wonders with their SUPER moist cake and thin layer of butter cream icing.  She even used our abstract heart/ initial logo to decorate each one.

His shirt says "Grazie, y'all." LOVE it.

Who was your favorite vendor and why?

Choosing my favorite vendor is tricky since I managed to utilize SO MANY close friends and family in the collaborative effort that was my wedding!   But, I have to say that the venue was just PERFECT!  I COULD NOT have dreamt of a more sublime day, and there is no doubt in my mind that the setting played a huge role in the event.

T30SB Commentary:I had several email exchanges with Abby and in one she said this about her venue: "My sister and her uber-British husband have a fabulous 1860s farm house in Oxford, MS, where my beau and I lived for 7 months together when we were just trying each other on..."  I absolutely adore this comment. The thought of dating as "trying each other on" is just so fitting (no pun intended).

Was there a "method to your madness" in choosing your vendors? 

In choosing my vendors, I first looked to friends and family.  I wanted to create a relationship with most everyone involved in the day, thus, looking within my circle was an obvious first step.  Beyond that, I really tried to woo each involved party with our story, a photo or two and by constantly injecting personality into any correspondence, so as to avoid becoming just another customer.  

      
How long did it take to plan your wedding?

We planned our wedding in right around 9 months.

How many guests did you invite versus how many came?

We invited around 250 people to our May wedding with around 170 folks actually in attendance.

What was your budget?

We spent somewhere around $30,000.

Did you include rings and/or the honeymoon in your budget?

We did not include the rings or the honeymoon in our budget, because my Mama and Daddy put on the wedding for the most part, whilst we paid for our jewels and our vacation.

Were you over or under budget? By how much?

We actually didn’t start off with a concrete number in mind.  We did spend somewhere around where we expected to, though.  So, I’d say we were just about on target.

T30SB Commentary: You strict budget brides? Do not get pissed. Do not get jealous. Your wedding will be fabulous.

How large was your bridal party?

Our bridal party was pretty damn southern-ified with 12 bridesmaids and 9 groomsmen. 

What was your biggest day-of crisis and how did you handle it (or rather, not handle?)?

Honestly, nothing that drastic went down ON THE DAY (to my knowledge….or maybe that’s JUST HOW GOOD my people are!).  But, the Thursday before the wedding the tent folks broke a water line and water was gushing all over our “aisle.”  Luckily, my Dad swiftly turned off the water and we had the plumber there in no time to make the repairs.  Wait, wait, but now I’m remembering—The kegs running dry during the middle of the party was the biggest panic.  HOWEVER, we sent two gung-ho friends to the gas station down the road with a wad of cash and the party never suspected a thing!

What was you biggest wedding planning crisis and how did you handle it (or rather, not handle?)?

The band we had planned on backed out two months before and I was devastated.  But, I had foraged a fantastic relationship with their manager and thankfully, he hooked us up with what turned out to be an even more perfect fit of a NOLA Funk Band than I think even our first choice would have been.  And, we got the royal treatment when we headed to Jazz Fest that year too, because the manager still felt so bad that our first choice bailed. 

T30SB Commentary: And that's why you need to be sweet to your vendors. Sometimes it's hard, but try. 

Who was the biggest pain in the ass on your wedding day?

I can’t think of a single thing that was a pain that day.

What was the biggest waste of money that you loved?

The biggest waste of money was the idea of was all these cool iron birds we’d bought to use as anchors with organic seed paper to label the food BUT, the project was never completed!

What was the biggest waste of money that you wish you’d passed on?

I can’t think of what we should have passed on…

What did you love that was also the cheapest?

I am STILL patting myself on the back for hooking up the chicken on a stick for part of our late night snack.  It was an idea I’d had and then finally followed-up on just a day or so before the wedding.  It involved paying $25 extra to have the favorite gas station down the street skewer a piece of fried chicken, fried dill pickle and fried chicken.  That was on top of the already low price of around $65 for fried chicken and pickles for $200.  We had a friend pick up the hot and salty shish-kabobs-of-sorts at 11pm and they were TO DIE FOR!  The Klondike bars, fruit pops and ice cream sandwiches we wheeled out at the same time didn’t hurt the vibe either.

T30SB Commentary: I'm loving this fried-everything beer-run gas station!

What was the most unexpected thing that happened (not necessarily a bad thing, just a surprise)?

There was an impromptu parade with the band later on in the evening that had my honey and me leading a whole line of folks with the brass band and drummer around to the front of my sister’s 1860s farm house.  My groom and I then took to the front porch with the rest of the posse looking on like it was our stage.  We slow danced and kissed as the entire crowd sang You Are My Sunshine to us- one incredibly happy couple.

What was the funniest thing that happened?

The most hilarious moment went down when our New Orleans’ Funk-stah, Glen David,  worked a hilarious and original chorus into the last song of the late night entitled—Fuckin’ in the Bedroom – and had the entire dance floor rolling.  Luckily, the party had formed a little circle around my honey and me with the lead singer/ trombone player so we could embrace our initial embarrassment and then get over it and right back into some good, good saucy dancing and kissing, rousing that crowd right on!

T30SB Commentary: The pics with the parasol and pig? What we have here folks is a "second line." Not familiar?

Second line is a tradition in brass band parades in New Orleans, Louisiana. The "main line" is the main section of the parade, or the members of the actual club with the parading permit; those who follow the band just to enjoy the music are called the "second line." The second line's style of traditional dance, in which participants walk and sometimes twirl a parasol or handkerchief in the air, is called "second lining." It has been called "the quintessential New Orleans art form — a jazz funeral without a body." Source

Now don't think the bride morbid. Second lines aren't just for funerals (although they are most definitely a part of NOLA/Southern tradition). Second lines happen anywhere and everywhere as a form of celebration, whether it be the life of a loved one passed or the start of a happy marriage!

What was the most ooey-gooey, tear-jerking moment?

When the groomsmen got on stage and sang the song that had been written by one of the guys and composed by another (with guitar and mandolin) for us—“She’s One Hell of a Gal and He’s an Okay Guy” it was surely an ugly cry kind of moment.

T30SB Commentary: I think this might be a private (meaning locked) video, but you might be able to see the groomsmen singing here. It's freakin' hysterical.

Just in case y'all aren't familiar - that little glass jar is MOONSHINE. Yes, it still exists. This is a true Southern wedding.

Personal Touches? meaningful additions?

We had hand-made Vermont caramels, which were brought out at the end of the evening, as well as Tennessee’s Moon Pies, hoping that folks would pocket one or two for the road.  However, there was no per person favor. As the guests wrote us notes in place of a sign-in book upon arrival, we had family pictures of our grandparents and parents on their wedding day hanging on an old door just behind the entrance.

Where did you go on your honeymoon?

We went to Port Antonio, Jamaica for the first 3 nights, staying in an eco-lodge and checking out the most untouched/ rural side of the east coast of the island Hotel Mocking Bird Hill.  Then, with the car we rented for the week, we drove back across the country to stay 6 nights at a boutique hotel on the cliffs of Negril, The Rockhouse Hotel.

If you could do it all over again, what would you change, if anything?

If I could do it all again, I would remember to ask about the HUGE special and oh-so-fragrant gardenias that had been ordered for me to wear in my hair once the veil came off.  And, I would have made sure that we got a photo with good light in the beginning of the evening with just my immediate family.

T30SB Commentary: The process of featuring this wedding was an interesting one that has randomly introduced me to Abby's sister as well as Josh Hailey, Abby's photographer. In writing to Abby's sister (also a bridesmaid), she shared her favorite moments with me. I thought I'd share them with you too! 

• Welcome table with sugar cookies in cool shapes made by a family friend and iced tea and lemonade in front of house while people arrived.

• Sign-in table with photos of their parents' and g'parents' weddings, as well as cards to fill out with things like "always keep your life full of..."

• Gospel choir singing during wedding

• The cones of Vermont lavender hanging on the curly willow branch at the top of the field we threw at them as they left the actual wedding.

• The pig parade/second line down the driveway with the band and the groomsmen carrying the pig on a board.

• Vermont caramels and Moon Pies late in evening.

• 3 antique bath tubs for icing down the drinks--one of the groomsmen got in one at the end of the evening!

• The best chicken on a stick you have ever had (w/pickles and onions) from the local gas station delivered at 11pm.

• Ice cream offered by my 8 -yr-old from a red wagon at midnight.

• Abby, wedding party band and all drinking moonshine from a little glass bottle.

• 3 ft-long sparklers we waved at them as they left in her jeep.

 CONGRATULATIONS TO ABBY AND ROGAN!

And many thanks to April, Cristen, Josh and Abby for making this feature happen! So much fun! I just wish I could have showed you ALL the pictures. You want to see them all? Cool. Go here. And while you're at it, check out the photographers blog. It's pretty groovy too.

*Whatever you do, make sure you get down to the bottom of this post!*

OK, so a couple of years ago The Candyman and I were invited to a backyard wedding in East Nashville. This East side wedding was lovely, as all weddings are. The bride wore a lacey white top and a light colored long suede skirt and cowboy boots. The invites were paperless, as was the RSVP. A friend officiated. The couple requested that no gifts be brought. However, since people are insistent (and they are), they allowed guests to bring a bottle of their favorite wine for the reception (brilliant idea) or they could donate to Thistle Farms.

Uh. Wait a second. Donate WHERE? I looked it up online and their website was crap and I didn’t understand it and so I opted to bring the wine.

Fast forward a year or so. The Candyman and I were engaged and one weekend I popped into The Frothy Monkey for a much needed latte and the line was just killer long. As I was waiting to order I was browsing some of the shop’s items for purchase and l noticed some Thistle Farms product. I made the connection and did a little reading about the place. I was floored. And I knew RIGHT THEN that The Candyman and I needed to include Thistle Farms as part of our registry.

So that’s what this introduction leads us to: ALTERNATIVE REGISTRIES and specifically, Thistle Farms.

Like I mentioned a few weeks ago, I went on a field trip. I buddied up with Tabitha and Ashley from Ashley’s Bride Guide as well as Jonathon and Sharon from Jonathon Campbell Photography.

The ladies of Thistle Farms, Ashley's Bride Guide and The Thirty-Something Bride!

I had met Carolyn Snell, one of Thistle Farm’s volunteers at the ABG Sex and the City party. We talked excitedly about how I had come to know them and I just KNEW I had to blog about this and tell everyone I possible could about this amazing place. So what is it? Here we go:

The Story of Magdalene and Thistle Farms

Magdalene is a two-year residential community founded in Nashville Tennessee in 1997 for women with a history of prostitution and drug addiction. Magdalene was founded not just to help a sub-culture of women, but to help change the culture itself. We stand in solidarity with women who are recovering from sexual abuse, violence, and life on the streets, and who have paid dearly for a culture that buys and sells women like commodities. 

At no cost, we offer women a safe, disciplined, and compassionate community for two years, paid for by the gifts we receive from individuals and private grants. Magdalene stands as a witness to the truth that in the end, love is more powerful than all the forces that drive women to the streets.

What is Thistle Farms?

Thistle Farms is a non-profit business operated by the women of Magdalene. By hand, the women create natural bath and body products that are as kind to the environment as they are to the body. All sales proceeds go back into the program.

Through Thistle Farms, the women of Magdalene gain much needed job skills, and learn responsibility and cooperation. Into every product goes the belief that freedom starts with healing, and love can change lives. Our dream is that people will come to see Thistle Farms as a humble but powerful business synonymous with women’s freedom.

Why Thistle?

Considered a weed, thistles grow on the streets and alleys where the women of Magdalene walked. But, thistles have a deep tap root that can shoot through thick concrete and survive drought. And in spite of their prickly appearance, their royal and soft purple center makes the thistle a mysterious and gorgeous flower.

Carolyn Snell, our wonderful Thistle Farms liason!

Our group was invited to tour Thistle Farms. At 9am, a large group of people circled a lighted candle and started the Daily Meditation. A woman read a passage from a book about secrets, the topic for the days’ meditation.  From there, we went around the circle and introduced ourselves, much like an AA meeting. Sometimes that’s all that was said.  Other women elaborated about who they were, the secrets they had kept in their lives and how it became toxic in both body and soul. It was one of those moments in life where I absolutely know for certain that I:

1. Will never be the same.
2. Recognize the courage it takes for a person to truly acknowledge themselves, faults and all.
3. Are overwhelmed that places like this exist and were built to help.

There were a few comments made that rocked me hard and I wrote them down to share: 

Freedom ain’t free.

Turns out, the only person I was keeping secrets from was myself.

I’m not ashamed of my past, I'm proud of my future.

I learned early on that I don’t have to dance with everybody, but I have to dance with somebody.

I am breaking the cycle of secrets.

When you put these statements into context – a long history of abuse, drug addiction, crime, broken families and lives – they MEAN something. Something big.  It was truly an amazing experience.

Once the mediation time was over, they went into some general business and house-keeping issues: pick up your trash, make sure the back door is locked, thanks to the candle folks who worked overtime – just like any other staff meeting at any other business. There were clearly ladies ready to get to work, others who wanted to socialize – just like any office.

The "no nonsense" supervisor. As a graduate of the program, this lady knows what she's doing. I was impressed.

A Thistle Farm employee prepping bottle for labeling.

Happiness found in candle making!

We got a lovely tour of the work space, the packaging and shipping areas and I had the opportunity to stop and talk to two women.  Neither of the women is considered a graduate yet, but I was moved to share their stories.

“Mary” is 32 years old and had been at Magdalene house and Thistle Farms for 9 months.  She had been on probation for drug use, got caught using and the courts took her son away from her.  In order to keep her son out of child services and with her mother, Mary entered the 2-year program at Thistle Farms. She got her GED and was just accepted into cosmetology school. Her number one motivation is her son.

Listening to Mary's story.

“Alice” is 39 years old and has been at Thistle Farms for 2 months. She started using crack cocaine at 13 years old. After 8 years of addiction, she was able to kick the crack habit, but switched to alcohol. This is her 5^th program and she was order by a judge to Thistle Farms. The judge pulled her order, but Alice has decided to stay. It’s her goal to “break the co-dependency cycle.” Her big news?  She’s just gotten her driver’s license back.

Inspired by Alice!

Thistle Farms creates  a myriad of amazing products. They have yummy smelling candles, lip balms, shower gels (my personal fave), lotions, body balms and essential healing oils. The products are all natural, made by hand and smell and feel great. Honestly, they do.  I was scared to try them because I have really sensitive skin – but they are glorious! They feel and smell so good! And you know what else? They have built partnerships with other women’s groups in Rwanda and Uganda to import the little bags they sell their “Summer Survival Kit” in! So cool.

So what is the point of this blog post? You can help. Today. Right Now.  For every comment, tweet, Facebook post or link to this article from your blog  (either here with The Thirty-Something Bride or on ABG or BOTH!), Ashley and I will team up and donate a $1 to the women of Thistle Farms.  That’s right!  Do what you gotta do – we’re picking up the tab.

What I want to stress the most about this post is the fact that you CAN register for something other than stuff.  You can link directly to Thistle Farms and donate on-line. I would love for you to choose Thistle Farms. But if you choose another, more personally meaningful charity, that’s great too!  While I was in love with the idea of Thistle Farms, we actually ended up choosing The American Cancer foundation. The Candyman’s mom died of cancer and my aunt was unable to come to my wedding as she was undergoing chemo at the time (she’s now in remission!).  We made a tough personal choice on this one. Hopefully, your choice will be easier. And I can’t tell you how happy we were to get cards from our friends and family who donated. It felt so wonderful and I encourage all brides to do the same.

Some other choices that Thistle Farms is offering:

In lieu of favors – framed signs and post cards for donations made in the names of your guests. Printed on handmade, thistle paper (natch).

Wedding Favors – Lip balms and postcards.

 Gift Baskets - Perfect for your maids!

Bridal Showers – Thistle Farms employees will com come to you to share their personal stories of hope as well as samples of goodies to buy!  You can also bring groups to Thistle Farms for tours, just like we did!

The easiest way to support Thistle Farms is to leave a comment and help spread the word!  When you share today's post on Twitter or Facebook or as a link on your blog, The Thirty-Something Bride and ABG will donate $1 to Thistle Farms. Fan-fucking-tastic, right? So share and mention @T30SB and @thistlefarms and link to this article (http://bit.ly/cgFQAP). EASY-PEASY!

Celebrate your wedding day with products that truly say, “Love heals.”



Update on Friday, August 27, 2010 at 6:51AM by Louise

Thanks to everyone who commented and tweeted and Facebooked and emailed and shared this link with your friends and families. I've had to close the comments for now in order to add all of it up and find out the grand donation total! If you still want to take part, please go to Thistle Farms and buy their product or make  a tax-free donation of your own! You won't regret it, I promise.