Sunday, December 4, 2011

“He has not stopped showing his kindness to the living and the dead.”

Those were the words that Naomi said to Ruth when she learned of Boaz's special treatment of Ruth. For those of you who are not quite the Bible nerd, here is the story of Ruth and Boaz in a nutshell:

Ruth is Bella and Boaz is Edward.... the end.

I'm kidding, gosh, totally kidding.

Ruth's first husband was an Israelite but they lived in Ruth's country, Moab, and after he dies she insists on returning to Israel with her mother-in-law, Naomi. Ruth is a widow and a foreigner in Israel, and marrying a foreigner was generally a no-no for the Israelites. Since neither can marry, when they reach Israel they're essentially paupers, and in order to have food to eat Ruth follows behind the men gathering grain and picks up the pieces they drop, a humiliating task since those who resorted to it were the poorest of the poor. When the owner of the field notices her and learns of her loyalty to Naomi, he tells his workers to intentionally drop large handfuls of grain for her to pick up. When Ruth goes home and tells her mother-in-law what happened, Naomi informs her that Boaz is a distant relative, and a man known for his incredible kindness to everyone. Even better, he can claim Ruth as his wife according to the custom of the time. Faster than you can say "prince charming" Boaz and Ruth get married and waltz into the line of Christ.

If you know a Christian girl, or more specifically a Christian girl who reads Christian relationship books, you might have heard her say she's waiting for her "Boaz." Boaz is essentially the heartthrob of the Bible, interchangeable with the nonbiblical "waiting for my Mr. Darcy/Edward Cullen/Jacob Black/Gilbert Blythe/Mr. Big/etc." (Though I see no appeal in Edward or Big, but don't ask me to understand all women.) Anyway, Boaz is the archetype of the perfect man, the Disney prince who slays the dragon or kills the evil witch to save the helpless woman. It's true that Boaz "saved" Ruth in a way, and also that the story is a representation and foreshadowing of Christ's redemption of mankind. However I admire Boaz more for the beginning of the story than the end.

Yes Boaz married Ruth in the end, but let's remember that she was part of her husband's accumulated property and by accepting responsibility of her husband's affairs he sort of inherited her... it's still cool and everything because he did all of that just so he could marry her, but that's not quite my favorite part. Before he learned of their deeper connection he noticed her as someone in need of compassion and kindness. He did not hesitate to show her kindness in her moment of need, and it's safe to assume from Naomi's statement (the title of this post) that he already had a reputation as a compassionate man toward everyone. Meaning that before Boaz was even deeply attracted to Ruth, he showed her kindness as a human being despite her poverty and despite her status as an outsider.

Which brings me to Tim and my overwhelming luckiness as the future Mrs. Tim. I never said I was waiting for Boaz -as you already know I was much quicker to say I was waiting for my own Jim Halpert- but I was always taken by Boaz's example of kindness, kindness to a virtual stranger, an outsider. Tim is definitely the kindest man I know, and I should know because I am constantly on the receiving end regardless of whether or not I deserve it. But I was positively swept off my feet all over again just yesterday.

We hadn't been on a "date" in months. Yes, months. We are both so busy and so overwhelmed with stuff that it just hadn't happened. We eat out and spend most of our time together, but we're usually so busy or so exhausted that we just end up doing not much of anything. It was really starting to bug the both of us, and we knew it was time to not be so "married." Well a few days ago it occurred to me that it's December and Lynchburg is certainly big enough to have a Christmas parade. We did a little research and wouldn't you know it was that very weekend! It had been so long since we just went out and did something recreational that we were probably overly excited about an hour-long parade, but whatever. :)

We had an amazing time! I was showing Tim all the cool things about downtown, and I even discovered some new things, one of which was a little cupcake bakery that happened to be the only shop not closed early for the parade. He bought me a snowflake cookie and some hot cocoa, and we sat at a picnic table to eat our sweets. After a few minutes a guy appeared and asked us if he could sit on the bench next to us. I cheerily said "Go for it!" without really looking at him, but once I did... whoa.

Here's the thing. I'm not trying to build myself up or anything, but I typically have a bleeding heart for needy people/children/animals. When I see those ASPCA commercials on TV I have to change the channel or I'll cry and cry and cry. Ditto to any child sponsorship or children's hospital commercial. However when confronted with a needy person on the street it's a little different. I want to be nice, but my programmed response is of course to get very uncomfortable and subtly move my purse closer. I try not to be too hard on myself about it because I think most women know what I'm talking about. After all, as girls what are we told? Don't talk to them. Don't give them anything. It's not safe. You don't know what they might do. Even when we're women we're told, Don't go out alone after dark. Don't be alone with a strange man. Don't travel by yourself. What if you break down? You can't trust anyone. These remarks are usually followed by a reminder about the most recent missing girl on the news, and if only she had made safer choices that night. I'm not saying that's all bad advice, but I am saying what guy older than 18 is told not to go to Walmart after dark or make small talk with a stranger? Few I imagine.

As your typical young woman I have been programmed to be naturally cautious around shifty looking people, and boy was this guy shifty looking. I could tell that he was a drifter for all of the obvious reasons: the old dirty clothes, the duffel bag, beaten up skateboard, questionable hygiene. And to his credit he didn't ask us for anything; he just seemed to want some human interaction for a few minutes. Even so, my mind automatically began to search for a way to leave as quickly as possible. Tim on the other hand calmly ate his cookie, sipped his hot chocolate, didn't show any obvious signs that he wanted to leave, and he had genuinely friendly conversation with this man. As he attempted to make conversation with us (he hates television, reads the paper, and is interested in the Occupy movement), it became evident that he was either on something or pretty fried from having been on something in the past. Tim patiently listened, tried very hard not to ask the guy to repeat himself too much, and conversed. So simple it would seem. The man had been to Columbus; Tim is from near Columbus. The man really liked it there. Tim does too. The man doesn't trust the news, we don't watch the news either. I was frozen, partly nervous, partly stunned, and quite overwhelmed. When Tim was done eating the guy offered to throw the trash away, and Tim said thanks. So commonplace. Yet most people wouldn't have such an everyday conversation, exchange such everyday pleasantries, with this guy. And when we got up to leave, Tim said "It was nice meeting you." How often does that man hear that?

As we walked away I was filled with intense love for my future husband, deep gratitude that he wants to marry me, and sore regret that I hadn't been more conversational with that man. First I'd been such a girl, then I'd been so enthralled by what was happening that I hadn't really participated. "That was a good thing you did," I said to Tim, "Most people wouldn't do that." Then he said, "Well... everyone matters. He was created with a purpose." The best part is he looked at me as if that were the most obvious answer in the world.

How simple. How uncommon. How lucky I am. And what a wonderful date that was.

Thank you, Jesus, for my very real Boaz. I am daily reminded of his kind spirit, toward myself and others. He is my lifetime reminder to be an open and compassionate person. Your blessings are abundant when I truly do not deserve them.

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Token Dress Post

Okayyyyy so the tentative purpose of this blog was not to be about frilly wedding things... but I would like to gush about my dress for a moment if you don't mind.

I put it on for only the third time a couple weeks ago. The shape wasn't exactly what I wanted... well actually it was when I found it. But if you had a ballgown dress, or if you select one in the future, you will relate when I say that the poof gets smaller (in your eyes) the longer you stay in the dress. The inevitable result is layering petticoat after petticoat until you are that cloud in Super Mario Bros. where the little dude sits to throw the spiky things at Mario right as he's jumping over a ravine... you know? In order to avoid that my strategy is to put my dress on as little as possible before the wedding. This also makes me much more smiley and excited when I do put it on! Anyway, I did want it poofier, and I still needed a headpiece, so I used my lunch break to go to the bridal shop. My future in-laws were visiting that weekend, so I invited my future mother-in-law to go with me.

Self Portrait.

In-Law Posse
It was actually a really cute moment. I've seen my in-laws a lot more than I initially thought I would. In all of my past relationships I met parents once or twice, and the guy met my parents like five times. Tim has only met my parents twice, but my parents instantly adored him (with every other guy they always said "We haven't seen him enough."). I on the other hand have seen his parents about once every couple months since we started dating. Even so, I was a little weird about asking Tim's mom to go with me at first. It's nothing about her, she's a really sweet lady, but I just tend to make things like that unnecessarily awkward. I definitely wanted to ask her, but I didn't want to make her feel obligated. I thought she might like it (she had three boys, thus not a lot of girly time), but how well do you really know your in-laws? It's definitely a balancing act. My mom probably knows hers a little too well (in my opinion) whereas I know some people who still call their in-laws Mr./Mrs. Last Name... yeesh. I would hope to build a happy medium with mine. Anyway,  I asked Tim to ask her (I know I know, what is this, middle school?) and he lovingly but firmly told me that I had to talk to her myself. I manned up and asked her and she seemed really excited. With her help I was able to pick out my hairpiece and finalize my no-veil choice. Seriously how does anyone wear those? I felt like a bird was nesting on my head...

The Place

To find my petticoat and hairpiece we went to the same shop where I got my dress. Let me just tell you about the amazing people at Church Street Bridal. When you come out in THE dress they gush right along with you just like they're your girlfriends, and I love that. They are truly happy for every single bride that walks through their doors. Not only is the service awesome, but the dresses are all high end samples at extremely discounted rates. My dress is a Priscilla of Boston (2009) from Kleinfeld (yes, THAT Kleinfeld). Original price: $4400. My price? $400. I bought my hairpiece for $60, originally $375. If that's not worthy of a happy dance I don't know what is. The final spoonful of awesome is that all proceeds from the salon go to the YWCA. It's an amazing place with a great cause.

How I really know my dress is THE dress.

My dress was the sixth I tried on, but the first one I picked and tried on with serious intentions. When I walked out I hadn't seen myself in a full mirror, but I could tell from the way everyone was looking at me (both my friends and the staff) that I was in my dress. Sure enough, as soon as I saw myself I laughed and cried and bought it on the spot. Afterward, I wondered if my emotions had been a fluke. It's one thing to cry the first time you put on a dress. Just being in a wedding dress could make some people cry. So I hoped that I wouldn't change my mind. Well I put it on (for only the third time) with a big poofy petticoat, and with my mother-in-law waiting outside. When I walked out the audience reaction was exactly like the first time. My MIL and the staff stared and I knew that I was in my dress. One saleslady said "I know you bought it a while ago, but I got so excited for you just now!" and Marilyn said "You look like a princess! Oh Tim is going to pass out when he sees you!" Isn't that so sweet? I get a very specific sense of "knowing" when I see the way people look at me in my dress. It's the way I always wanted people to look at me on my wedding day, so I know it's the dress for me.

Please don't throw up, buuuuuuut it kinda sorta makes me feel like this...

I guess you could say I'm going for 80% Cinderella, 20% Mario Cloud Boy. Or maybe the other way around. I'm geeky.

Monday, October 17, 2011

Statistics outside the (bubble).

The Liberty Bubble of course.

...But let's backtrack. Yes, already.

I am currently around two months into my first job job, and it has opened me up to a new world that I sometimes have a bit of a time adjusting too. I had jobs all through high school and college of course, but those were different. I was a kid working with other kids. Our problems were simple, wholesome things, like friends showing up hungover to work, the co-worker who got in trouble for sending texts of herself naked to every male employee, the dude with cocaine in the freezer (allegedly), and maybe, occasionally, trying to text at work. Those were the days.

Any other job I had was inside the "Liberty Bubble," which is so called with affection. For all the issues I take with Liberty I have to say I appreciated most of the rules. I'm glad I never had to deal with drunken hallmates vomiting on my carpet while I was studying Shakespeare. Most R rated movies aren't worth seeing anyway. I even liked hall meetings; somehow they made the transition from home to independence easier. And my job (college store employee for t h r e e years... yeahhhhh boy) was great. I miss it. For real. But I was definitely spoiled by the Bubble.

And that is how this relates to my impending matrimony. One of the many attributes of the Bubble was and is an abundance of young love, whirlwind romances, rings by spring, and weddings weddings weddings. Jerry Falwell himself stated -only half jokingly- that brother/sister dorms were created for that very reason. Liberty loves marriage. Baptist, straight, Republican marriage (Kidding, kiddinggggg...). It's an idealized world where commitment is key, often regardless of how healthy the initial relationship is. I didn't necessarily approve of this mentality, and I've seen some pretty immature couples jump into marriage, but all I've seen is the beginning of these stories, not the end, and in general all seems to be well. Most of my close Liberty friends are either married or engaged; some have even popped out a kid or two already.

In the sea of diamonds, dresses, and diplomas (and in the midst of my college relationships or near-relationships... of which I had a few) I mostly forgot about the darker sides of marriage. Darker as in... when marriage doesn't work. I always had relatives who were divorced, and friends with divorced parents, but that was as a child and young adult. Now that I have a job and friends in "real life," divorce has become much more of something that's real and tangible. These are my peers. Some have not only been divorced, but are in the process now. Until now I've never spoken with people whose marriages are crumbling, who just a few short years ago were where I am: buying a dress, oohing and aahing over a ring, hopelessly happy about their future. Now that future is mutated and a different kind of hopeless. Even stranger than those I meet going through separation and divorce are those I meet who are married, but openly unhappy. They've written off their marriages, and seem to have accepted a life of underwhelming love, if any love.

Sometimes it's interesting to talk to them about my engagement/wedding. I've been told to my face that I'm too young to get married. Again, a huge difference from the Bubble, where you tend to feel like an old maid if you're not engaged by junior year. I also have to check myself when I start to say things like "Well I'm only getting married once," because now I've heard the response: "Well that's what I thought too." No one means anything ugly by it and no one is trying to be a Debbie Downer; they're just being honest and sharing their lives like I am. And I can't just say that Tim and I know it in our hearts that we're different; I'm sure they "knew" too when they got married. Some talk about how their spouses turned into completely different -and horrible- people overnight, and I can't imagine Tim being anything other than what he is now, which is the kindest, most caring, most accepting, most loving man I know. I'm sure they couldn't imagine a drastic change either at this stage. Honestly, how do I know it'll work forever? The brutally honest answer is I "don't," save for Tim and I's commitment to each other that no matter how hard it gets we will never lay separation or divorce on the table. I can rely on that commitment and live without any doubt in my mind... it's just not usually considered a valid explanation by those who have been divorced or betrayed. Additionally some of these people are Christians and no doubt made the same commitments, said the same things.

In other words, I can't win, ha.

But really, I can't. There is nothing I can say that will adequately satisfy their cynicism. Maybe skepticism is a nicer word. No, realism is the nicest. I think that they are in an "in this day and age" mindset, and I respect that choice. In the grand scheme of things I suppose it isn't my job to convince them that Tim and I will last. People phase in and out of each other's lives every day and I'm sure most of my new acquaintances will never know if Tim and I make it. What is really important is that we make choices now that prevent problems in the future. We have to focus on our relationship without letting the relationships of others lead us toward more pessimistic expectations. This will be hard. But I will stubbornly, optimistically, say that this is the man I will be with forever, and I will say it with total certainty. I know because I know. In the immortal words of Fanny Brice (the movie version), "Don't bring around a cloud to rain on my parade!"

...And please ignore the fact that she also gets divorced in the end. It's still a great song.

Friday, October 14, 2011

In Sickness...

I was on the couch, crying crying crying.

Not a cute princess sniffly cry either. By the time we got to my pity party for one I was going on my fourth day with an over 102 degree fever, and that was the icing on a sore throated/nauseated/headached/bed-ridden cake. I had been to the doctor, who did little more than poke and prod me just enough to tell me that I wasn't nearly as sick as I thought I was, and that I really should get off her floor (where I was clearly about to pass out, rude!). That happened Thursday; now it was Sunday, my fever hadn't broken, I could barely use my voice, and I was desperate for another doctor visit. Tim was over, and I asked him to call my mom and tell her what was happening to me. She didn't pick up the house phone. Miffed, I had him call her cell. Still nothing. House phone again. Then my dad's cell phone. Then my aunt's cell phone and house phone. No one picked up.

Maybe it's a little pathetic, but as soon as I had even an inkling of a notion that I could be dead right then and my mommy wouldn't even know, I burst into tears.

Again, unattractive tears. Like, wet, puffy, snotty, wheezy, sweaty tears. And like most of those moments, the more I cried the more my life avalanched into a miserable heap. I was a total failure at everything, and how would I get through school, and why is everything going wrong at work, and I'd never get the wedding right, and where is my family, and how can I look this hideous in front of Tim, and the horrible feelings just snowballed until I was wailing. Yes. Wailing.

Then a pretty amazing thing happened: Through all of my hacking, I felt Tim give me a great big hug. I couldn't believe that he would even touch me with the way I looked, but he was holding me, telling me that everything would be fine, that I was doing a great job at work and school, that we would figure out how to make it all better, and that I was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. Did I mention my nose was running? This guy loves me.

Then he said, "I'm here. I'm supposed to take care of you now."

As he got me tissues, made me hot water with lemon and honey, and turned on some funny cartoons, I learned an important premarital lesson. I tucked myself in the crook of his arm and realized that when I'm sick and upset, I'm supposed to run and cry to him now. I'm entering a new chapter where my parents are too far away to catch me and comfort me. Tim will be next to me for the rest of forever, and it's time for him to step into the role of comforter permanently. At first when he was trying to comfort me it was hard to be satisfied, because obviously my parents have known me for 23 years, and sometimes it's hard for someone who's known me for just 3 years, even if he's my future husband, to compete. It sounds kind of weird, but I had to understand that Tim is enough now. I'd never fully thought of it that way before. When that really sunk in I was overwhelmed by an unspeakable peace. My mind audibly (to me) said, This is your life now; this is who can make you happy when you're sad. But you have to let him. So I did. Almost instantly my fever broke. Maybe it's lame to think that a good cry and my fiancé's TLC "healed" me, but I'm pretty convinced that he played a big part.

Lesson learned.


Friday, September 23, 2011

Office Love

I may prefer the love of Jim and Pam to the love in Song of Solomon. Maybe because if Tim compared my breasts to deer heads I'd be seriously creeped out (not that he would ever make such a comparison, as he hates deer, but you get what I'm saying). Like many of you I was eagerly (fearfully?) awaiting the season premiere of The Office, and I honestly could not have been more pleased. I like how they shot it almost like a second pilot, with Andy establishing himself as the new manager and learning how to support his team. The staff was won over and so was I! Of course, this pales in comparison to the introduction of the new Jim and Pam storyline (Eeeeee new baby!). Here are two of many reasons why they are my favorite TV couple:

1) They make marriage cool.

Marriages are notoriously portrayed in television to be at best cumbersome and at worst expendable. In many shows, the staple couple either gets together early and constantly breaks up (Ross and Rachel) or the writers take the entire series to put them together (The Nanny). To see a television couple actually get married, start a family, and stay together is rare in the world of the half hour comedy.

Jim and Pam have certainly not had a perfect marriage, but their pretend marriage expresses the qualities that real marriages should be built on: family, mutual appreciation, trust, a sense of understanding, and a sincere friendship. That's just a few elements. Didn't you want to cry when Pam found that list? I'm not going to lie, I welled up a bit. So hats off, Jim and Pam, for making marriage decently fun and not at all cheesy.

2) I can actually relate.

A "Jim and Pam" love is completely attainable, unlike many unrealistic and superficial movie/TV romances (*cough* Twilight). I'm not saying Tim and I have exactly the same story, but it is similar (he liked me, I was with someone else, he waited, we became friends, then best friends, he told me how he felt, I said no, we stayed friends, I changed my mind, and in a nutshell here we are!).

I never consciously thought that the guy I was with had to be everything that Jim was, but I knew I wanted someone like Jim; a guy who was my buddy, who was gentle but funny, who thought I was the coolest even though I'm super lame, and a guy who just "got" me and liked me the way I was. Tim and I are definitely not perfect, but one thing I can say with full conviction is that I have always (always!) known in my head and felt in my heart that he likes me exactly the way I am.

Here's to my Jim Halpert, and here's to finding yours. :)

Monday, September 19, 2011

c h e e s e

This isn't a post post, I just had a spontaneous fit of madly-in-lovedness with my fiancé brought on by these lyrics. Enjoy (or cringe).

When I Say I Do
Matthew West

There must be a God, I believe it's true.
'Cause I can see His love, when I look at you.
And He must have a plan for this crazy life.
Because He brought you here and placed you by my side.

And I have never been so sure of anything before,
Like I am in this moment here with you
Now 'for better or for worse' are so much more than only words
And I pray every day will be the proof
That I mean what I say when I say 'I do'
Yeah I mean what I say when I say 'I do'

You see these hands you hold, will always hold you up
When the strength you have just ain't strong enough
And what tomorrow brings, only time will tell
But I will stand by you in sickness and in health

'Cause I have never been so sure of anything before
Like I am in this moment here with you
And now 'for better or for worse'
Are so much more than only words
And I pray every day will be the proof
That I mean what I say when I say 'I do'
Yeah I mean what I say when I say

Take my hand and take this ring
And know that I will always love you through anything.

And as the years march on like a beating heart
I will live these words 'til death do us part'

'Cause I have never been so sure of anything before
Like I am in this moment here with you
And now 'for better or for worse'
Are so much more than only words
And I pray every day will be the proof
That I mean what I say when I say 'I do'
Yeah I mean what I say when I say 'I do'

Saturday, September 17, 2011

Call Me Kate Middleton

For obvious reasons. In case anyone was wondering, so far my your-ring-looks-like-Diana/Kate's-ring! comment count is fourish, which isn't so horrendous. While I understand that most brides would probably be aghast at the insinuation that their ring looks in the least like someone else's, I am pretty zen about it. Here's why.

1) We are all unique... just like everyone else.

There are no original ideas; there are original takes on the same ideas. My birthday is in September, like millions of other peoples'. I have always loved my birthstone so I told Tim that I was completely open to a sapphire ring if that was also in his vision. (I picked out many different rings -diamonds, sapphires, antique, solitaire, three stone, ten stone, etc.- and I left the choice to my fiancé, who I can honestly say knew me much better than I knew myself, and made the perfect choice. :)) I would not presume to think that I am the first person born in September (or whenever) to think about the sapphire option.

2) We are all trend-followers... just accept it.

Do you follow the year's most popular baby names list, scroll to number one and cry "That's it! I'm going to give my baby the same name as everyone else!"? Of course not. Most people go somewhere in the middle/bottom area and choose something that will give their child a unique edge. Then their year comes around and, wouldn't you know that just about every other baby has the same one-of-a-kind moniker. In fact, the only people I've seen succeed at unique naming are celebrities (and God help Fifi Trixibelle in school) and my mother. And if Blythe became a trendy name I would probably cry. But that's a tangent...

We are not our own generation unto ourselves, so when we are thinking something it stands to reason that most people our age are thinking the same way about the same things. You can apply this theory to engagement rings. Just like all weddings are tacky (and someone WILL think your wedding is tacky... embrace that now), all weddings are trendy. Fashion becomes fashion for a reason, and I could say that I considered a sapphire ring far before gemstone rings were en vouge, but I'm sure that JessicaPenelope, and Diana said the same thing.

3) Size Matters

Like many of my bridal sisters, I went with my nearly-betrothed to look at (all diamond) rings before our engagement. And -unfortunately for said nearly-betrothed- the bigger they got, the happier I was. Shallow? Fine, judge me, but I honestly didn't think something small (or even modestly large) looked awesome on my finger. Since I'm certainly not blind to the budget I embraced the diamond-alternative center stone pretty early in our ring search. Sure enough, for the same price that would have gleaned less-than-my-ideal diamond, I got a trés magnifique 2 carat sapphire. It's rather wonderfully huge and it has so many facets that it looks like an ocean when the light hits it; cue the blissful sigh. And speaking of money, did you know that Princess Di's gargantuan sapphire ring only cost $60,000? I know I know, that's actually an insane amount of money, but think about the fact that she was marrying a prince, could get whatever ring she wanted, and that even Bennifer's diamond ring cost $1,000,000 (throwbaaaack here). Diana got an impressive ring for a -by celebrity standards- modest sum. So in short, when you want to go big or go home... get an awesome gemstone and save money while you're at it!

4) Dissing the Diamond Drama

Do you inspect the 4 c's of your friend's (or Facebook frenemy's) engagement ring? Well, those more keen toward negative thoughts might automatically assume that those who go the gemstone route cannot afford a diamond, or hate diamonds just for the sake of being unique. First of all, I love diamonds. In fact, I love them so much that my ring has 32 little sparklers AND my big blue center stone. (See girls? You really can have it all!) I have to say that I thought this reason would be my biggest soapbox, but in fact it's been my smallest. I've received no negative feedback on my ring (to my face anyway), and you know who I have to thank for it? Jessica, Penelope, and Diana. Yes, this trend has made my ring super cool to everyone and, while I might not have cared because my one-and-only did such an amazing job, it is still fun to have everyone gush like w h o a when they see it.

So do not be afraid of my taking any offense; make all the Kate Middleton comments you'd like. Some may think I'm Trendy McFollowface... but I'm a Trendy McFollowface who's getting married. ;)


TITLE PREVIEW: My SuperMOH (do-do-do-doooooooo)

Monday, September 5, 2011


Welcome to blog number 2! Not that blog number 1 was too impressive, but I'm notoriously noncommittal about journaling, writing... you know. On that note, it's a little ironic that I recommit to blogging now that I've entered into the b i g g e s t commitment ever, or at least agreed to. (Though actually, I had to write "yes" on the proposal plate... and we signed our names... gosh are we married now?) Anyway, I've been a bride (squeal) for about 48 hours now, and I have a whole lot of opinions beginning to work their way into my brain and out through my typing fingers. I have no desire to write about corsages or ribbons or lace... I mean I guess that might happen eventually... but I'm thinking more philosophically about the whole thing as of now. So here on my new blog I'm hoping to share my deep thoughts about the tough things -and yes, some light things too- that go into making a wedding... OUR wedding. For real, Tim is my best friend (and my first choice for maid of honor, but he said he was busy that day...) and I fall in love with him all over again knowing he's just as excited about our day as I am. Wish me happy planning and happy blogging; June 16 is only 9 months away! :)


PREVIEW: Next post title... Call me Kate Middleton