Is this heaven? It's Iowa.

When we'd go visit my dad as kids, we had certain movies we'd watch over and over. Mostly in the vein of Star Wars and Monty Python movies (it sure explains a lot, doesn't it?), but once in a while we'd bust out other classics, like Field of Dreams. Keep in mind, my dad isn't a big sports guy by any stretch of the imagination. Maybe he liked the idea of baseball. Or maybe he just liked Kevin Costner (that would explain the Waterworld years...). Who knows. Whatever it was, that movie ended up in our regular rotation.

((Note: we also went to the field itself. I got a t-shirt there. It's white and shows a cornfield, and when you wear it out in the sun, baseball players appear in the cornfield. And when you love it and wear it and wash it for ten years, eventually the players stay out all the time - there's probably a life lesson there somewhere...))

Genuinely not sure what got me thinking about this particular film today. I was probably still post-funk musing over life. Trying to figure out if I'm "on track" for where I want to be and what I want to be doing, etc. Determining next steps and goals for general life doings.... Okay, really, it was thirty. Thirty is coming. While I still have plenty of months to go, when it hits and someone asks me if I accomplished everything I wanted to and if I'm where I want to be for thirty, well, I want to be able to tell them that I crushed it in the two decades prior, bring on the next. That looming birthday has my brain running in all sorts of directions.

Which brings me back to Field of Dreams. Having not seen it in ten years, l still recall my biggest take-aways from it. Some little life lessons that weren't spoken by a disembodied voice, but that a teenage girl somehow mustered out of what some call a "sports" movie.

• It's not about where you live, it's about what you make of it. Whether it's a corn field in the middle-of-nowhere Iowa or a city in Wisconsin. Wherever you are, the one thing you can control is your own actions and your own happiness. So make the most of where you are and bring your aspirations to life wherever you may be.
• Sometimes you have to take a big risk to get a reward. That reward may not be what you expected, and it may take awhile to get there, but if you're lucky, it'll be worth it. Dream big, take a leap of faith, give it a go. Better than looking back later and regretting that you didn't try. 
• Who cares if people think you're a nutter. There will always be haters, but the ones who love you will support you when you need supporting. And, more importantly, they'll be honest with you when you've gone off the rails, but will figure out a way to help you achieve your goals anyway.
• You can learn a lot about yourself through helping others. Even if they don't want your help.
• It really is the little things. Life has a lot of stressors, but don't be afraid to step back and look at the big picture. Relax, enjoy yourself, and realize how valuable time is. Have the dog and the beer. That little dose of clarity can help realign everything and put it right again.
• It's always better to forgive. Grudges can last a lifetime, and more often than not you'll regret having held onto them.

If you build it...

• Always appreciate family and value your time with them. Someday, they won't be around any longer, and all that will remain of them will be your memories. Make them and cherish them. And yes, go "have a catch" with your damn dad already.
• Nostalgia is king. People just want to be reminded of "all that once was good and could be again." They'll do anything to get a piece of that 'member-berry pie. Sometimes it's wholesome, and sometimes it's not. Indulge occasionally, but don't get so wrapped up in chasing the past that you neglect the present (like your bills). 
• Use your imagination. You're never too old to hope and envision a brighter world. Every so often, the voices in your head aren't totally crazy.
• Read works by passionate people. Don't like, go kidnap them at any point, but taking the time to read and learn about someone who was (or is) very passionate (especially if it was during an era of change/reform) can help give a unique perspective.
• Don't wait for tomorrow. Jump in now and look at each day like a new adventure. After all, to quote the doc, "At the time, you don't think much of it. You know, we just don't recognize the most significant moments of our lives while they're happening. Back then I thought, 'Well, there'll be other days.' I didn't realize that that was the only day." Seize it and treasure it, because you may not get another chance.

As I rush towards the thirty year mark, I reflect more and more on what I learned from my "youth" but somehow forgot along the way. Yeah, I often frame it in the context of some sort of pop culture reference, but as long as it's somehow inspirational in a good way, what's the harm in that? (#amirite) If at some point you see a blog post about how I've kidnapped a famous author and am conversing with ghosts (OR more alarmingly, have moved to Iowa and suddenly like baseball), well... definitely throw an intervention then. But in the meantime, I'll start making up a plan to see if I can't build a place where dreams come true.

Sunday Somethings

Today was a strange Sunday for me. As the day closes, I can clearly see several encapsulated moments - little vials to be dumped into a Pensieve, as it were. So, thought I'd share them, all nice and neat and wrapped in a bow for y'all.

• I woke up tired, at 8:00 am, after around five hours of sleep. Quietly, I began cleaning up the remains of a stellar apartment-warming party the night before. Bidding adieu to a departing houseguest as I emptied the dishwasher. Everything was quiet, and peaceful, and I had the world all to myself. It was very serene after the prior evening of excessive noise. 
• Noon. After cancelled plans, the beau and I went in search of brunch. Or, perhaps more aptly, lunch. In a city known for brunch, I was super disappointed when we sat down at a place that told us they did not have brunch at all, but only breakfast, until 2:00 pm. It was a rare moment where I actually walked out of a restaurant. Brunch means both. You can't have only eggs available at noon, friend. Not in this town. 
• 2:15 pm. The beau headed off for work, and since it was such a rare, beautiful October day, I hit the trail along the lake. For an hour and a half I just listened to music and walked along, admiring the world. Half the leaves are turned and departing from their branches, the other half desperately clinging to the green glow of summer. The travelling Oktoberfest beer garden bumped out polka music which echoed along the shoreline, bouncing off the buildings of the city. (The same music which has played from noon to night every day for the past week, and has graced our home with hourly renditions of "Roll Out the Barrel.") It was perfection. 
• At the empty beach, on my walk, there was a young family. They were introducing their small baby to sand for what seemed to be the first time. The dad, clutching the child by both hands, slowly lowered her down until her bare feet touched down. The kid's face lit up so bright, as if she were the first human setting foot on Mars or something. After seconds of confused joy, she began sprinting forward, longing for more new experiences. She was bliss. Her mother recorded the whole thing. I was in the background of that moment, and will be forevermore because of that recording.
• There is a nearby pier that was strangely unoccupied, so I walked all the way out into the lake, as far as it would take me, marveling back at the skyline. Sitting on the graffitied wall, I watched the waves lap up against the pier and the rocks. I took a million photos of the "artwork" on the pier. Most just silly tagging, but some just there for the beauty. It took me a time to realize why no one else was around, and that it had been growing darker. That the fog had begun to roll in, and that rain was eminent. So I headed home.

"Trying not to look so young and miserable..."

• 5:00 pm. At the mall, meeting with my sister for lunch, realizing how nice it is to live somewhere where friends and family are so easily accessible. Where, when wanting to have a few people over for a housewarming, a troupe of around 30 shows up. Where, when you call up your sister and say you want to go see a movie, she doesn't want to see the same one but meets up with you for a meal beforehand anyways. What a lucky lot in life.
• 6:45 pm. A date with myself to see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (part 2) in IMAX. Perfect seat, popcorn in hand. Ready for all the feels. That's when it began. The woman right behind me (of course) who would NOT stop her running commentary of the film. Every character who came on screen, she had to announce who it was. Every moment of silence, she interjected some quip. A loud cackle. A misplaced reference. It wouldn't end. This woman was reprimanded by her family with her at the theater, and by several other people in the audience who implored her to just watch the film in silence. (There were even swear words exchanged at one point, and threats of violence.) To no avail. 
• Now, don't get me wrong, I still felt all the feels (and cried like eight different times) and enjoyed the movie immensely. But, I probably enjoyed it at about 80% of what I could have, had this woman not been there. Throughout the film, the brainstorming began, as I plotted out exactly what I was going to say to this woman at the end of the film. (There was nothing to be done during the run-time, clearly, as she had ignored everyone else.) I had several versions ready, as the movie drew to a close. Then it occurred to me: this lonely, odd woman, probably just didn't have anyone else to express her excitement to normally, and maybe genuinely thought this would be a good outlet. Or maybe she just liked HP so much and couldn't help herself. (I mean, I had done a few little fist pumps throughout, but they were a quiet affair.) The real question: What good would it do for me to be mean to this lady? So, I kept my venomous words to myself, and instead, at the end of the movie when I stood up, I turned around and faced her and threw her five full seconds worth of straight on shade, in silence. In that shade, I tried to convey that what she had done was in fact, awful, as she had disrupted a fellow Potterhead from fully immersing back into a world that we can normally now only enjoy at home. I don't hope she feels awful, I just hope she understands.
• 9:00 pm - the drive home. The fog had fully taken over, and the closer I got towards the lake, the denser it got. With Broken Bells pulsing out of my car speakers, it felt like I was literally in a dream state. The world was actually a blur. The drive was movement wrapped in mist. It was soothing and yet perfectly eerie.

"Girl take a seat, rest your weary bones..."

Whether today was a wonderful day, or just a strange one, is probably a moot point. For ups and downs, it just...was. It was a Sunday. Not sure what kind of mood it has put, or kept me in, but I'll take it for what it was: another day gone by. 

I'll Huff and I'll Puff

People spend a lot of time trying to "figure out" who they are. It takes years of self reflection, of growing and nurturing values, etc. and some people still feel like they don't quite understand their purpose or fully "know" themselves. Over the past few years, it's become pretty clear to me who I am. And honestly, I've come to terms with it. Maybe I knew all along. The straight fact, that I may indeed be... a Hufflepuff.

Sure, I initially fought it. Not just because yellow isn't my color, and people think of Hufflepuffs as total duffers, but mostly because I always felt Ravenclaw was a better place for me. Not saying I don't still have Claw tendencies, but upon reflection, the Puff is more clearly my bag.

Before I jump into some Huffle-gushing, let's lay out some quick canon, as spoken by the Sorting Hat, about the core qualities of each house (rhetoric compiled from various sortings), for those of you who may not recall (why are we friends again? #jokesnotjokes):

Gryffindor: bold from wild moor: brave at heart, daring, nerve, and chivalry; value the bravest; teach those with brave deeds to their name; want the bravest / boldest
Slytherin: shrewd from fen: cunning folks, use any means to achieve their ends; value great ambition (power-hungry); teach those whose ancestry's purest; want pure-blood wizards of great cunning
Ravenclaw: fair from glen: wise, ready minded, wit and learning; value the cleverest; teach those whose intelligence is surest; want those of sharpest mind
Hufflepuff: sweet from valley broad: just and loyal, patient, true, unafraid of toil; value hard workers; teach the lot and treat them just the same; want the rest 

Here's why I don't cut it for the others:

• So for Gryffindor, we've got the show-boaters. Not it. Also, the most daring thing I've done all week is drill a hole in the wall to mount a hook for my coat - in a rental! (Yeah, that's right, take THAT security deposit!) Basically, the only reason I could be a Gryf is because I look great in maroon.
• Slytherin is a bunch of assholes. Elitist (maybe racist is a better term?) jerks who would sell their own mother to get ahead. Sure, I've got my share of ambitions, but not at the expense of others. Cunning I can pull off, but only like, to get a student discount at the movie theater, so definitely not ruthless enough to be a Slyth. 
• In my youth, I was definitely a Ravenclaw. Studious little straight A student, witty AF (read: snark) and eager to soak up more knowledge. Then I got booted out of academia and into the real world (via graduation) and realized that maybe intelligence wasn't the only factor that could get one ahead, and in fact, being smart actually just pissed people off. Yes, I still love learning, and witty banter is my fave pastime, but you can't just be half-ass Claw. Plus, the other day I accidentally cleaned my stove with bug repellent because I couldn't be bothered to read the bottle, so... that may be an automatic DQ from this house.

Which brings me back to my Puffdom. Originally, I wrote up a bunch about this, but it sounded pretty cocky, so I deleted 90% of it. We Puffs are a modest bunch.

• Hard working and unafraid of toil: As children, my dad used to have us shovel rocks and dig trenches - we grew up working. My summer job to pay for college was hard manual labor (as a BAMF custodian). All those late nights in the library while at university - I worked my tail off (you can even look, it's not there anymore, I worked it all the way off). Long hours I can do, if there's a job needs doing.
• Loyal, patient, true: Need me? I'll be there. Basically, if there's anything I can do to make sure that someone else has an easier/better time of life, I'll try and do it. And I won't sit around expecting something in return. This gal, has your back, through thick and thin... always. *insert still-not-over-it-single-Snape-tear here*
• Just and treats everyone equally: Everyone deserves a chance; we Puffs don't discriminate. Fairness and free hugs for all. We'll patiently work together to achieve betterment for the team, not just ourselves. As headmaster Zefron once said, "We're all in this together."

Hufflepuff problems, amirite??

Also, just to disparage some of the Huffle-haters. Here's a couple little tidbits on why, it turns out, Hufflepuff is a pretty stellar house after all:

• The Battle of Hogwarts - Slytherins cleared out, so did most of the Ravenclaws. The reckless Gryffindors (of course) decided to stick around, but you know who else did, too? That's right, the Hufflepuffs. Why? Because Puffs are always ready to roll up their sleeves and get the job done. We're loyal to you and we're going to throw down when shit gets real. We're not just fair-weather fans. Like, have you ever SEEN a pissed off badger? It'll frickin' rip your face off.
• The common room - it's in the same hallway as the Hogwarts kitchens. 'Nuff said.
• Quidditch - remember that match where Hufflepuff beat Gryffindor, 150 to 50? Sure, it was because clumsy Gryf seeker Harry Potter fell off his broom (okay, it was because of a Dementor attack), but Puffs still won. And even though they won fair and square, they still graciously offered to play a rematch, just to make sure the Gryffs didn't feel they'd been mistreated. We're just that damn nice. (Three years later, when HP couldn't stay on his broom again, we just whooped their butts - we may not be the star athletes of Hogwarts, but we'll take a victory when we can!)
• Noteable Puffs - They include: Tonks, total badass kween; C. Diggory, total spare, but arguably easy on the eyes; Professor Sprout, everyone's fave frumpy prof whose garden could kill you; Newt Scamander, mister "I seem to have misplaced my magical creatures" himself; the Fat Friar, who didn't let death stop him from drinking and having a good time.
• Also, as you know, Hufflepuffs are particularly good FINDERS. (Find!)
• The Badger - our house spirit animal.* Often underestimated, because they're pretty chill and hang out in their burrows underground (probs why we're so good at Herbology, earthy and whatnot). It's well known that honey badger (in particular) don't give a shit. Honey badger does all the work and the others just pick up the scraps.** How typical.  But if you do something to piss it off, or threaten it's fellow badgers, it will take. you. down. (Go Youtube "Badger attack") A fierce friend, the badger, just like we Puffs.
• HP - maybe it doesn't stand for Harry Potter, but instead... HufflePuff? Yeah. Sit on that one for a minute. Let it marinate. 

Sure, in our lame muggle version of the "real world," there is no Sorting Hat to tell us it's okay to be a certain way. We don't get to act like a cutthroat asshole, push someone off their broom, just shrug and say, "Sorry, I'm a Slytherin, that's how we do," and everyone's just like, "OH, okay, makes total sense. Carry on." Instead, we have to make our own magic, and decide who we want to be all on our own. Figuring it out does feel pretty darn rewarding though... Ten (adult) points for Hufflepuff!




* Muggle-born guitarist Brian May of Queen (who we all know is actually a wizard) has even spent time defending the majestic badger. Clearly, we Hufflepuffs have the right kind of allies.
** Note how in that video there is both a a bird and a snake (Ravenclaw? Slytherin?) that try to take advantage of the badger; one gets scraps, the other gets scrapped. Bam, baby!
*** In case you wondered if there is an elaborately choreographed Lady Gaga parody regarding Hufflepuff, well, there is. Put your badger paws up; you won't be able to unsee it. 

Accidental Cardio

Something has been amiss this week. Maybe it's those post-wedding blues. Or the return of fall, which means that winter is just around the bend. Or maybe it's just fluxes in hormones and weather. (Or maybe I just got bit on the bum by a bitch bug.) Whatever it is, this girl needed to jostle something back into place.

Best place to start: tackling the walrus and getting back to some sort of physical activity (other than bustin' out sick dance moves at various wedding receptions).

So, gave it a go. Jumped back into my go-to TIU workout. Rearranged our second bedroom so all the mirrors were just perfect for me to openly judge myself so I'd work extra hard. Locked the beau out and went to town for a time. Decent workout, clearly out of shape, but did pretty swell for still dealing with my bum knee (#CuzIm90).

Post workout, bopped over to the bathroom to rinse off. Decided to bump some jams. I haven't gotten in good shower jams in far too long, so spent a few minutes deciding on music. Tried to reflect on the source of my funk (my weird week funk, not like, my groovin' dance funk) and decided on a throwback. Went way back and tried to think what my favorite inspirational tunes had been back in middle school, during a much simpler time. Came up with the quintessential song: Under Pressure by Queen and Bowie. Freddie and Bowie, my straight up favorites. That was just the ticket!

Putzed with my phone to get the song going. Set it on the sink and hopped in the shower. After the infamous opening beats, as the stellar vocals chimed in, I realized the volume was way too high. Moved the shower head aside, shook some water off. Quickly scrambled out of the tub and turned it down. All set. Back in shower. Hot water, cool shampoo, hitting all the right notes.

Hardly a minute in, the song stops. Hands in hair, mid shampoo, my eyes popped open, filled with rage. Shampoo in said eyes. A cranky sigh, a half-assed rinse, and I was out of the tub again, this time caring less about dripping, as my frustration built. Can't a lady just get her groove back and shower and Bowie in peace without all these interruptions??

Realized it was a WIFI issue, so spent several minutes awkwardly pacing naked, with my phone above my head as the water flung off my waving arms and I tried to regain signal. Finally, restored. Set phone down and turned back to shower, singing all the "de da day"s leading up to Bowie's epic line.

Opened curtain, got in.
"It's the terror of knowing what this world is about..." 
Realized I wasn't alone.
"...Watching some good friends screaming..."
There was also a GIANT centipede that was half crawled out of that little "overflow" thing above the drain and below the spout. It was halfway out and was already two inches long. Panic set in.
"...'LET ME OUT!'"

"These are the days it never rains, but it pours."

With zero regard for water spillage, completely ripped the shower curtain out of my way in order to find something to smash the creature with.
"Turned away from it all, like a blind man..."
Total flood, water everywhere. Thrashed about. Grabbed toilet paper, but it just like melted (as TP is wont to do when it gets wet), so that was no good.
"...Sat on a fence, but it don't work." 
Decided to sacrifice the pink polka dot hand towel from the dollar store. Turned back to the shower to destroy the pede.
"Keep coming up with love, but it's so slashed and torn. Why, oh why?"
Dramatically threw back curtain. Further flooding.
"Whyyyyyyyy?"

And it was no where. It had escaped / gone back to the fiery depths from whence it came. I set the towel on the tub ledge and got back in to just finish my shower, my heart racing. Closed the curtain... and that's where it was.
"Insanity laughs, under pressure we're breaking..." 
A silent, open-mouthed shriek of horror, and I began batting at the curtain. The pede scuttled frantically down to the tub, away from the flailing plastic. Water flying everywhere. More scuttling, more waving about. Total chaos.
"Can't we give ourselves one more chance?? Why can't we give love, that one more chance? Why can't we give love, give love, give love...."
STOMP. Instinct took over and I literally took my bare foot and smashed the pede against the tub.

Then I had a nervous breakdown. Filled with regret over my reflex, I attempted to scrub off all my skin with that damn pink polka dot towel which had failed me. At no point though did I regret the song choice. And that's what really maters.

Sorry, towel, I have to go light you on fire now.
(Note: blur is from my literal throwing in of said towel)

I Frickin' Love Your Wedding

As a child, I was never one to dream about weddings. There was no secret hope chest or promises of bridesmaidship to the gals at the lunch table. I wasn't opposed to marriage in general - my Barbie dolls had more relationships than Fleetwood Mac and got remarried every other day - just wasn't interested in it for myself. Fast forward many years, and there's still no fantasies brewing or elaborate Pinterest boards lurking, BUT, without even a slightest bit of sarcasm, I can honestly say:

I frickin' love your wedding.

To be clear: I'm not obsessed with weddings in general. Just yours. Nuptials for a stranger? Pfft, don't care much, just a party. But your wedding, my dear friend... oh, what a treat!

Seriously. It does bring us all together.

When it comes to your wedding, there are a few things I want you to know:

1. This ain't my first rodeo. Having attended 28 weddings in a span of seven years* (a four-time bridesmaid), I've seen many things. They've been at bars, in backyards, at country clubs, on a mountain, and everywhere in between. Each one holds a special place in my heart and is uniquely its own. No two are the same and each shows the flare specific to the couple. The only thing in common: a whole lot of love. Love is like oxygen, dude; I need it to live. May I be lucky enough to be in attendance for a million more "I do's." 
2. Reach out and I'll be there. Contributing in some way or making you less stressed, it's all I want. You've invited me to be a part of your special day, and I'm going to make it as amazing as possible. Give me a glue gun or a guest list, and let's get to work! If you want to get married on the damn moon, I'll build a rocket ship and get there (early, so I get a good seat). 
3. I want it all. Every detail. I want to know every little detail. Really, I do. From flowers to footwear. The whole process of picking the venue, the photographer, the DJ, the wedding party, the hashtag. The engagement story and the full aftermath. The look of your new signature (if you're changing your name at all that is - #bosslady). All the Pinterest projects you plan to undertake and every DIY that ends up going to hell or falling to the wayside as the big day approaches. Every scuffle related to the seating arrangement or guest list, every minor meltdown, every tiff between you and your mom. I live for the drama. I drink that shit right up and am genuinely interested when I'm asking about your nuptials. 
4. I'm gathering intel. Those details? I'm internalizing them to offer as guidance to future brides. And to judge others against (because yes, we all do that). Plus, someday, if I have to go through the madness myself, I'll have the benefit of all the chaotic wisdom from hordes of brides and grooms in my back pocket to remind myself what to avoid and what magic works best.
5. This gal is a sucker for traditions. Popping bows and popping babies at the bridal shower. Awkward dollar dances and post-ceremony receiving lines. Grand marches. Tinking glass. Old, new, borrowed blue. First dances. First looks. First cake-to-the-face. Your grandma's veil and your mama's pearls... oh my heart! Sure, a lot of traditions are total malarkey,** but that doesn't mean they aren't fun. And, yes, I will ask all about them in advance - before some extended family member who's hellbent on them harasses you first.
6. Backup photographer, right here. Because damn you're gorgeous, and I just can't help it. You'll see the photos by the time your five year anniversary hits... probably.



Your bridesmaids are wearing chucks and sandals?!
STOP! I LOVE it! Let me take 50 photos and insta-hashtag them!

7. Your family is my family. Mother of the bride? My BFF. Crazy auntie so-and-so? She and I just did shots. Cousin whoever? We're in the photobooth. Groom's dad? I wrote his toast and handed him a hanky while he read it. On this day, we're all family.
8. Your friends are my friends. Yeah, I'm totally cool sitting at your childhood friend table (this was my most valuable asset for years as a typically solo attendee - easy filler for table gaps). Hearing  tales of your misadventures from a time when I didn't know you is a fantastic window into how you became who you are. Not one of us have the exact same moments / stories with the happy couple, but we all got picked to be at their wedding. We all merited being a part of their lives. So I'll tell you mine, if you tell me yours. 
9. There will be tears. Odds are, I will cry. Like a baby. It's not going to be dainty; it will likely be loud. The sight of the groom when he sees his bride the first time, the hug and awkward handshake as the dad "hands over" his daughter, the cracking voices as the couple tries to keep it together during their vows - I weep. I am a major weeper. Niagara Falls, Frankie angel. (Which is why I have so many movie quote gifs about crying on hand - just in case.) And yes, I did bring tissues. Oodles of them.
10. I'll be at the bar. The bartender and I are bound to be friends. I'm sorry in advance if you've declared an open bar. You knew the crowd of hooligans you invited, so just grab a drink and I'll meet you on the dance floor (the Electric Slide is playing, and my dancing shoes are ready to go). Promise not to be as drunk as your mom. 
11. Your wedding day is frickin' MAGIC. When we're young, we get the spotlight all the time. The older we get, the fewer moments we have a light shine on just us. At your wedding, you get that light. Shine on, you happy couple. Shine brighter than that diamond on your hand! On your big day, I want you to feel special and unique like the little snowflake that you are. This moment is YOURS. Anyone who tries to make it anything less than magical, I will happily take out back for you. Ain't nobody got time for naysayers when you're checking off milestones! You go dance your face off and talk to whoever you want, throw obligation to the wind and you just enjoy. If you're doing it right, you only get one go at it! 

More than anything, I want you to know that my love for you doesn't stop after the vows are said. You may have a new person legally bound to love you, but I'll be waving around in the background, throwing glitter at your life for years to come. (You can't get rid of me just because you got married; sorry, friends! From this point on, I just have to fight harder for your attention is all.) The ceremony itself is just a representation of a commitment. A commitment for two people to care for one another, and a commitment of all witnessing to support the couple as they grow together. The ceremony is the fun part; the marriage is the hard work part.  And I'm in it to win it for both. So when you come back home from the honeymoon, and life kicks back in after the year of nonstop planning, and the magical wedding happiness bubble pops a bit... just give me a call. I'll be ready to hit up happy hour with you to figure out where to go next.



* My heart is breaking in advance for the time that this wedding train slows down. Baby showers just aren't as much fun. ALSO, for those whose weddings I could not attend (I think there were three of you), due to scheduling conflicts, travel restrictions, etc. - I'm sorry, I'm the worst. Please can we have a re-do? You can re-wear your finery (I know you have that dress in the box in a closest somewhere), and I'll get drunk and cry and tell you how happy I am for you and give you presents. It'll be fantastic!
** GAH! My world is shattered, I always thought it was "balarkey" not "malarkey" - been saying that one wrong for years!