I began 2012 feeling out of sorts. We came home from a party in the dark. Left the house for dinner the next day, in the dark. Mostly about why my left ring finger was still naked. Seriously, though. I felt bad that we slept through January 1st. As I sat backwards on the bus on the way the second party of the year, I vowed not to waste another day. By the end of that week, I’d written a…
Yesterday marked 6 months until the wedding. Sarge and I celebrated by opening some sparkly from the engagement party and watching a double-bill of The Usual Suspects and Mixed Nuts. Guess which one was my choice. And. We were also toasting the the fact that I quit my job on Friday. Although I prefer the term ‘left voluntarily’. See, the giant stresshead I mentioned in my last post kinda exploded. The first flowery boot dropped on Thursday night at a…
I pride myself on the fact that I’m not really a Bridezilla. I’ve been quite laid-back about this whole wedding thing, and actually more into the whole being married thing. Bring that on. A few months ago, I did have a blip about envelopes, of all things. And then I got over myself. Other than matching paper goods, the only stipulation I’ve made is that the bridesmaids’ outfits don’t go all the way to lavender on the purple spectrum. And…
The first and only time I danced on a table it buckled underneath me. My friends lifted me, in the chair, onto the table because it was the only free space on which to dance. I was 18 and liked to dance. I was also drunk. All other space that night was taken up by girls dancing around their handbags and boys dancing around girls. On a crowded dance floor, I am usually considered a fire hazard. A fire hazard…
I like music. I love music. I greatly esteem music. The first site I crank up on any given morning is last.fm. (Spotify has too many ads.) Even before facebook. Or real-life coffee. That’s big. While my musical taste is kind of eclectic, my first music-love is country. I love it down to the ground. Or the red dirt road. I know it isn’t cool to admit to liking country. At least for me, growing halfway up on Long Island,…
