Shoes!

I found the perfect shoes to go with my wedding dress. What is the dress, you ask? My mom is making it--it's the most basic dress imaginable, just an ivory strapless knee-length sheath. The shoes, though...oh, the shoes. Ruby satin Stuart Weitzman 4-in heels, open toe, with a sparkly bow thing at the toe. I think I want to marry the shoes, as well. The problem is that they're $400. I think I'll have to make do with something I already have, as the essentially nonexistent wedding budget does not cover $400 shoes. I'll end up kicking them off after an hour, anyway, and running around the house barefoot. Le sigh, le moving on.

Wedding plans progress apace...I've got the invitations and program designed, menus roughed out, and outfits planned. At some point between now and then we may have to move into a new apartment--the current one is deeply unsatisfactory on a number of levels. Yet another big thing to plan! Woo. (Not.)

I took myself ring shopping yesterday. Don't get excited--you know I'm not down with traditional engagement rings, especially prong-set solitaires that will snag on my pockets and interfere with my cooking. But at the very least we'll both need bands. I went to a couple of jewelry stores in the nearest shopping center and looked at the various options, both for engagement rings and for wedding bands. It's completely overwhelming. Especially since the second shop was giving me the hard sell, pushing $30,000 three-carat behemoths on me. I wasn't tempted. I have an old ring, a cheap-ass piece of costume jewelry that looks like the $10 piece of tin that it is, but I've always loved it and always wanted to get it remade, you know, real. I'll take that to the shops and get a quote for getting that remade, so that I'll have just one statement ring for both engagement and marriage. Hopefully the budget will stretch to cover that, at least, if not $400 shoes.

Otherwise, spending a lot of time thinking about finances (household and wedding) and stepmothering. He's a great kid. And a picky eater. I realize most kids go through a picky eating phase, and I also realize that if/when I have kids, my luck will dictate that they're the pickiest eaters imaginable and I will want to kill myself on a daily basis. However. Me and picky eaters just do not get along. I've dumped boyfriends for refusing to eat things. Having a picky eater in my own household is particularly galling, especially when it is impossible to apply adult logic to the situation. Most reasonable adults will respond to "Are you sure? This is really good! I love it!" and give the dish at least a halfhearted attempt--for politeness, if nothing else. Try explaining to a child, any child, that refusing to eat something is rude and see how far that gets you. I foresee epic battles in my future. Le sigh. If you, dear readers, have any experience with this, please send me advice! I'm comforting myself this week with wild boar bacon, grass-fed flank steak, and several very lovely bunches of fresh chard. Oh, and a handmade batch of Chartreuse ice cream. As in the liqueur, not the color.