She goes around in circles 'til she's very, very dizzy.

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

"I Do" & Something Blue.

Only three days left, people. THREE. DAYS.
My parents' house has been invaded by two out-of-state sisters and their combined eight children. Needless to say, craziness abounds.

But it's my favorite kind of craziness.

I watched yesterday as my nephews woke up Gem by using a small toy ball-popper to blow air in her face while simultaneously tickling her feet.
It was precious.

I mean, I am in no sense of the word a morning person, but I can't think of a better way to wake up than by being ambushed by two giggling youngsters.

Typically, getting ready for the day is a monotonous task. But today, before I had even showered, I had convinced my 4-year-old niece that the blue whitening strips I had applied to my teeth immediately after waking up were actually my real teeth, which inexplainably turned blue every morning. She nodded back, entranced and wide-eyed.

Moments like this are my favorite.
I love hearing little voices everywhere I go.

However, I do not love answering the same questions surrounding the wedding over and over. Therefore, to save time and sanity, I will give you a quick run-down. And hopeful dispell future repetative redundancy.

My name is Corin Haymore.
I am marrying my fiance, Daniel E. Nay, on June 30th at 11 AM.
The 'E' stands for Elonzo. (Not to be confused with 'Alfonso'. Don't worry, it happens to the best of us.)
The sealing will take place in the Mount Timpanogos Temple.
I am NOT nervous. Just excited.
Contrary to my niece's belief, babies are not included. Yet.
Immediately following the ceremony, there will be pictures.
All you need to do is stand and look pretty. Smiling is preferrable.
Yes I know it is June. Yes I know it's hot.
It'll be fast, I promise.
Just count your blessings that you won't be wearing a heavy, corsetted dress.
Beautiful, mind you, but restricting.
Stop worrying about posing and rules and schedules. Everything will work out.
Then there will be a luncheon.
It will be in a chapel.
You will be provided directions.
Stop hyperventilating.
Once you're full and satisfied, you can disappear. For approximately 4 hours.
In the meantime, we will be taking bridals & groomals. (Yes, it's a word.)
And making sure that everything is ready for the reception.
I may try to fit in a short nap, but I'm guessing it's unlikely.
The fiance has other ideas on how to use the time..
Don't read into that.
At six sharp, family photos will be taken at the reception site.
As well as other clever arrangements. Thank you Pinterest.
Then you will all come and see me!! Hopefully.
A pleasant assortment of refreshments will be served.
And peacock feathers will abound.
You'll know you're there when you see the Italian lights.
Once again, I realize it's June.
And that it get dark much later.
Thank you for enlightening me for the um-teenth time. (Pun intended.)
They will still look amazing.
I will only be standing in line from 7-8.
Any longer and I will die. Plus, I refuse.
Make sure to sign the guest calender and take a picture of something.
Spell out a Scrabble tile message.
Kiss a baby.
The whole she-bang.
Feel free to stay and eat zebra cake. I don't want leftovers.
(No seriously. I'll have put my blood, sweat and tears into that thing.)


Perhaps even catch a cash bouquet?..
And send us off in a blaze of glory. Or something like that.
We will be spending the first night at the Anniversary Inn in Salt Lake.
In the Sultan's Palace.
The bed is on the back of two elephants. It's legit.
After that, we'll roadtrip through Jackson Hole and Yellowstone.
Staying in hotels, every night.
You really think I'd spend my honeymoon in a tent?..
I mean really, people.
We even get to meet up with the fiance's missionary brother.
And take him to dinner and a rodeo in Red Lodge.
Actually, he'll be 'the husband' by then. But you know what I mean.
I'm excited.
And the rest is history.

Or at least it will be.
Once the present is over and the future is behind us. Confusing much?

Just pray that I don't lose my sanity before then.
Or wake up with blue teeth.

And that people don't suck the very life from my body with a barrage of useless questions and miniscule/unimportant wedding details.
But mostly the blue teeth thing.

Monday, June 18, 2012

Taking Credit.

As many of you may already know, the fiance and my announcements were stamped and sent sometime last week. And we're still suffering from the aftermath of glue poisoning. My mouth tasted like paste for two days.

And it was all for you, I hope you know.
Because you.. are worth it.

They turned out amazingly, if I do say so myself.
I've received compliment after compliment about how they are so 'unique' and that they have 'never seen anything like it before'.

Win and win.

Here's a little preview if you have not yet received one: (speaking of which, if you would like a hard copy, just leave your address in the comment section and I'll be sure to make it happen.)

Front:

Inside:

Back (when opened):

I also have a confession to make..
Remember when I ranted about never getting credit for all of my hard work?

Well.. I may or may not have taken all of the credit for the fantastical graphic design on our announcement, completed by my amazing sister Jenny of Design Gone Wild Photography.

Granted, I did fulfill my duties as Art Director of said project by providing the inspiration and specifications, as well as adding the finishing touches. But it was her blood, sweat and tears that brought my genius to fruition.

So when the printing company (who I shall NOT name even though I am VERY tempted to reveal their unprofessional marketing promises which they do NOT live up to..) was impressed with the layout and asked if I had designed them on my own, I replied with a resounding "Yes."

Will it make you feel better if I told you I felt bad about it later?..

Of course, not bad enough to tell the complete truth the next time someone asked. Or the next. Or the next.

Who's to say what's a 'little' help and what's 'a lot'?..
It's all relative right?

And it's really a time saver to just claim the glory on my own without having to go into the long, drawn-out details of who did what under whose supervision.

I guess what I'm trying to say is karma's a b**ch.
And that Corinner-Elly has a very convincing shoulder devil.

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Really Bugs.

I don't know what's happening, but as of late, the insects of the world have combined their forces in attacking me.


Twice now, I've gone to get into my car and drive away late at night only to find that a kamikaze moth has infiltrated the safety of my vehicle.  Moths are evil. I know this because they wait to make their appearance until I am already in motion, forcing me to swerve, slam on my brakes and shriek while I try to simultaneously roll down the window and direct it (via frantic hand motions) OUT.

Moths have scarred me for life.
One year at girls camp, there was a veritable infestation at Camp Koholowo. We'd find them in our bags, on our pillows and lying dead in piles around the cabin floor. Up until that point, I'd viewed moths as a less beautiful version of butterflies. Feeling very much like a moth myself in a world full of butterflies, I was determined to still love them despite their supposed unattractiveness.

That is until that first night when one of them kept flying into the light, causing a continual *plink*.. *plink*... *plink* and keeping my already frenzied mind from sleeping. That was when they morphed from something unappreciated to something inherently evil. It must have been bothering 'da twinneh' too, because she asked/pled with me to get up and kill the thing.

Being somewhat of the protector at the time (that or a glutton for punishment), I ventured out to do her bidding. Grabbing some spare toilet paper, I waited for the perfect instant to grab it and squish it between the folds.

What I did not realize regarding moths up to this point, was that they CRUNCH.

Feeling something 'crunch' between your fingers may very well be the worst feeling in the world. Beetles and moths are probably the worst offenders. I know because, as much as I tried to never again experience it, I crunched one recently by accident that had been attracted to the glow of my laptop during the night as I pulled it from my backpack. Thus, repressed childhood memories.

And apparently the ghosts of murdered moths past are coming back to haunt me. Along with their spider brethren.

I discovered one while opening my gifts at a bridal shower last weekend. I pulled out a salad bowl and some summer plates and found him waiting at the bottom of the sack. All I can figure is that he was either trying to kill me or steal my gifts, I can't be sure.

Either way, he waved his little pincher feet at me menacingly.

And then, yesterday when I came home to my apartment with arms full of groceries, a mini tarantula dropped out of no where and landed right on my hand.

It took all of the energy I possessed not to drop the load and jump backwards, which would have resulted in my death considering there was a railing and a three-story drop if I had done so. The best I could do was hold my breath and try to squish him with the only limb available, which happened to be a foot.

Which is rather hard to do when the spider in mention is a trick spider and can not only scurry up the door frame but jump fastastically.

I'm sorry to report that I didn't get him.
He escaped into his little hole to re-plot my doom.

And so I live in constant fear.
This is evidenced by the fact that the fiance's shirt lightly brushed my leg last night while watching TV and I jumped a mile, swatting whatever creepy-crawly I was convinced was there.

This is not good people. Not good.

Monday, June 4, 2012

'Drawn'-out.

I love seeing time lapses of artists making their artwork. So today I thought I'd share a little play-by-play of some of the pieces I've done recently.

Unfortunately for you, I haven't the time nor equipment to sit down and film myself creating a drawing in one attempt. My method is to work for as long as I possibly can before I go eraser-crazy then come back later.

I could potentially come back to the same piece an infinite amount of times, because it never seems quite right once I've given my brain a break from staring at it. But those are the times when I just have to call it 'good enough for who it's for' and finish the dang thing.

Speaking of 'who it's for', this first example I did for my former roomie, (sad day..) Lacy-Hacy's, upcoming wedding. Instead of a guest book, she's going to have people leave a thumbprint 'leaf' on this tree then sign their names very petitley beneath it.

You can thank Pinterest for her ingenuity.


This is how it started out. Looking EXACTLY like the picture reference she had given me. However, I was quickly informed that I was doing it 'all wrong' and that she wanted it to be 'less short and squatty' and with a 'less perfect heart'.

Forgive me for liking perfection, Bridezilla.


Once I had lengthened the tree and imagined more branches, (no small feat for me, I hardly ever draw from my imagination) I began shading in dimension with a brown soft lead pencil.

It was then that Lacy-Hacy informed me that maybe she did want her and her fiance's names included in the drawing. Did I mention that was why the tree was 'short and squatty' to begin with?? To allow room for said features?..

Have I also mentioned that she's somewhat of an indecisive Bridezilla?
Yes? Moving on then.


After similar indecisiveness surrounding what she would like the birds to look in her tree, I threatened to make them look like this:


Needless to say, she wasn't amused and increased the level of 'testiness' in our correspondence.

When she finally sent me an image of what she wanted, I penciled in two little bluebirds representing her and lover-boy. Naturally, one had a larger beak than the other. I'm not saying who it represents.


As if that weren't hassle enough, it took me another seven years to find out what font she wanted me to replicate for their names. Did I mention that this commission was pro bono?

Or that I no longer have any hair from pulling it out?..

But it was all worth it in the end upon seeing her satisfaction with the finished product. And my free-hand calligraphy turned out amazingly well, if I do say so myself.

My second example is a drawing I did for my and the fiance's parents last Christmas. I probably should have taken a picture of the rough sketch before I added any shading, but in all honesty, rough sketches of humans are often quite scary. I'm talking super hideous here people.

Be grateful that we live in a 3-dimensional world.

The only thing that prompted me to document the beginnings of my drawing at all was a need for validation. Luckily, 'da twinneh' recognized who I was trying to draw, albeit over poor quality picture message.


And so I plodded along, hoping that I wasn't horribly mangling President Monson's loving features too much.

That's the problem with drawing a person you (and possibly a LOT of others) know. There's always something wrong with the depiction, because everyone looks at different things in a face.

Gratefully, I've only gotten an overwhelmingly positive response about the image, because I was a little worried there.


It was two months in the making, but I finally finished it. And this time round, I decided to let Photoshop add the wording in for me.

Then it was packaged, wrapped and gifted. And now hangs happily in both homes, not to mention Lacy-Hacy's bedroom, her parents' house and her soon to be in-law's house.


So there you have it.
Creating artwork is fun when you stop second-guessing yourself and aren't collaborating with a semi-unresponsive/indecisive bride.

It's also fun when you get paid.
But then again, I wouldn't know anything about that.

And so leads the life of Corinner-Elly.

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