The Making Of: A Dysart Date (Part 2)

That's right...I succumbed to the cutesy commercials promising the ever elusive 'One' and joined the online dating community. They told me I could 'Make Love Happen' and 'It's Okay to Look' - which sounds kinda creepy and slightly voyeuristic but, obviously, I wasn't above all that! Three years, people....THREE! I'd gone from doubting my appeal to questioning my existence altogether when it came to men.

I figured it couldn't be THAT bad...

It. was. Terrible.

Oh, Mat...how you deceived me! A slow, agonizing process where I had to sludge through countless 'winks' from mid-life-crises-era older men, bad (and by 'bad' I mean 'disgusting') pickup lines, slightly-misogynistic-because-I'm-not-over-my-ex types, the dudes that have a woman or a beer or NO SHIRT ON in every. single. picture!...the list of wrongs go on and on and on.

But Mat had trapped me into a three month commitment that involved money...and if there is something you can say about me it's that no matter how bad it is, if I paid for it I'm going to make it work. So I played the online dating game like I was down by 2 and there were only seconds remaining...I winked left...I winked right...I bypassed that guy that asked for my number in his first e-mail...I saw an opening at the last moment and scored BIG TIME! It was like speed-dating and pen-pal-ing and facebook-stalking all rolled into one!

I found my Batman and he STILL makes all the difference in the world. ;)

Anyway, two first dates, a year-plus-some dating, a five-month engagement, and one wedding later...I had my 'One'. So, I guess Mat knew what he was talking about...but don't tell him I said that!

The Making Of: A Dysart Date (Part 1)

"Honey...you've resigned yourself to being single for the rest of your life..."

WHAM! Talk about getting hit over the head with the truth! I was sitting on the couch and had just gorged myself on mashed potatoes, turkey, and gravy. I was in one of those euphoric and slightly catatonic points in the digesting process when my Aunt Diane laid that one on me. I opened my mouth to tell her it wasn't true...I was still hopeful...I hadn't totally given up yet...!!

...and then closed my mouth again without saying a word.

Oh how the truth hurts! My delightful Thanksgiving meal started to turn on me. Armed with indigestion and righteous indignation, I said,
"I have not! I don't NEED to be part of a couple. I've been so blessed in my life...I'm happy with whatever God gives me!"

Which is just another way of saying, "I'm TOTALLY resigned to being single!" without actually saying it.
You see, she was pointing something out that I hadn't really accepted about myself but had started to become more and more aware of lately - I was becoming CatLady. Please do not confuse this with becoming Catwoman. CatLady is LIKE Catwoman minus some very important things like sex appeal and uber-hot arm candy/archnemesis Batman.

Catwoman = desirable, unattainable, and minxy.
CatLady = eccentric, unapproachable, and flakey.

Basically, Batman makes ALL the difference in the world!

It didn't help that I had been randomly adopted the month before by an actual stray cat (note: she adopted me...NOT the other way around!) and I hadn't been on a date...or even asked on a date...or even been 'eye scanned' by a hot guy in over three YEARS. It was a sad state of affairs and I was creeping ever closer to CatLady-ness. (oh the HORROR!)

Enter my personal friend, Mat Chdotcom...

(To Be Continued...)

The Making Of: A Dysart Wedding

I am a chronic "I-can-do-that-for-cheaper" type of person...it sorta runs in the family...i'm genetically predisposed to it...and night-owl-ness...and a severe addiction to chocolate. True story.
Anyway, I have never admitted defeat, I will NOT pay full price...and when it came to our wedding, this attitude was in full force. I wanted a beautiful, homemade wedding that was unique and looked expensive without actually being expensive.
Basically, I wanted this:

For about $12.50.

That's right...I wanted a value menu wedding.

You might be thinking....Um, yeah right! Not possible! And I'm here to tell you that it IS...completely impossible. I mean, c'mon! Just the flowers alone would've been a fortune! So my dreams had to get a bit smaller and a bit more...rustic.

A LOT more rustic.

So we went for a backyard barbeque that had a little more 'Oomph' to it - kind of ' chic' it up a notch.

And what did we end up with? Well, see for yourself:

I simply loved my rustic chic wedding and although it was crazy to try to do so many things myself (which I highly condemn) it did, for the most part, turn out pretty good! A break down of what I and an army of completely-willing-whenever-I-asked-even-when-it-had-become-ridiculous friends and family members did...and probably should've just payed someone else to do:

1.Invitations:

2. Ceremony Arbor:

3. Place Settings and Linens and Table Decor:

4. Tent Lighting:

5. Ceremony Water Bottles and Program Fans:

6. Bouquets and Boutonnieres:

7. Wedding Brownie (instead of cake...looks terrible but tasted good!):

8. Guestbook Thumbprint Tree:

There was so much going on, it got a bit difficult to keep track of it all. All in all, the end result was that we DID get married (yay!) and we had loads of fun with our friends and family without spending a fortune...which meant that we got to put a good down payment on Emma Brick when we bought her! It was a good day to become a Dysart! :o)

Our Story

Hi!

I'm Lori.

And that guy with me is my handsome, charming, goofy, lovely, darling, happy, wonderful husband, Andrew.  We are two of a three-part family with this little guy:

Adorable, right? I know...he's awesome. Our story is still starting out...there's not much to tell yet. But we are working on it...and loving the process.

So you still want to know a little more?

Here are all the links to our story of becoming this thing I call Dysartopia!

The Making Of: Dysartopia

The Making Of: A Dysart Date (Part 1)

The Making Of: A Dysart Date (Part 2)

The Making Of: A Dysart Wedding

The Making Of: Dysartopia

It all started with a gift...

Well...sorta. It ALL really started WAY before that with my Pappap making googly eyes at his hip lady, Mummum...but to keep you from falling asleep at your desk, as far as I am concerned...it all started with this little, dirty, wonderful, frustrating, amazing gift: my son. 

God gave me this boy-gift when I was choosing all the wrong things at the wrong times in my life. God is amazing like that. He gives us gifts all the time...even when we don't see them as gifts...even when we really think that He is punishing us...even when we think we've got it all together and we can cope and we can strive and we can accomplish it ALL on our own. When we hit the bottom and are stuck in the muck...BAM! God gives us a flying dog-dragon. (Like Falcor from The Never Ending Story. You know, because he can help you out of the muck and point you in the right direction even though he looks like a scary dog-dragon and...ok, you get it!)

I'd decided that I was happy with that gift and that gift alone...assuming that awesome gifts like that only come once in a lifetime. But then God gave me another - much larger and dirtier and, if possible, quirkier, but just as wonderful - gift. 

That's right. 

God and I are like BFFs.

He loves me ALOT. 

And so does this handsome guy:

My husband, my other half, my hunky happy homie, the peanut butter to my jelly, the crunchy-chocolaty-cookie thingies on my Carvel cake...

My gifts and I aren't perfect but we work hard at making our own "perfect" little family. Other people may see what we are and call us weird (true), crazy (most of the times), a hot mess (Lindsay Lohan ain't got nuthin on us, people!), responsible and always rushing the fam to be super early to EVERYTHING (ok, I threw that one in for my husband)...call it what you will. 

I call it Dysartopia. :o)