Well I didn't see THAT coming

I went dress shopping on Saturday with ER and a coworker (Brian). I hadn't been yet with ER, and I wanted to show her the dress I fell in love with when CG and I went dress shopping a month ago.



















I tried on several, and I saved that dress for last. ER and Brian loved it. We were debating color choices and decided that the best combinations would be either ivory and marine (dark blue), or white and champagne. I had my work cut out for me. What to do, what to do ...

And then the lady helping us came up to me with another dress that had just arrived in the store. They hadn't seen it on anyone yet. It was lacy and pretty, and I thought it would be fun to try on one more -- why not?

I came out of the dressing room, and ER and Brian both gasped. Brian's jaw stayed on the floor for a while. It was clear to see that this was the favorite.





































This dress gave me an hourglass figure, which I thought was totally impossible. ER kept saying, "It fits you like a glove!" Brian told me to walk in it a bit, and I did. The way it moves is just gorgeous. It'll look amazing when I walk down the aisle in it. Plus, I asked K what kind of dress he liked, and he said he liked something fitting that would show my figure, not something poofy. The first dress is definitely poofy.

The lacy dress, though, is a bit more expensive, but you only get married once, right?

I'm stuck. I like them both. Maybe I should just get one for the wedding and the other for the reception (riiiiiiiight).

Braggin' on the little brother

When I got in my car today after church, I looked at my cell phone to see I had a photo message from my brother. He's in Indianapolis for the NASCAR race today, and he's working on a pit crew. He's one of the guys in full uniform and a helmet who jump over the wall when the cars come in to pit. His role is to be the front tire guy, which at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway is a big deal.

The photo message was a picture of him in his uniform, wearing sunglasses and looking like a total badass. I love it!

I'm watching the race on TV now, hoping I get a glimpse of him doing his thing on pit row. I'm so proud of him!

In a funk

I have a confession to make: I am not feeling like my life is very brilliant lately. I've been staying busy with work, the gym and hanging out, but everything just seems pretty routine right now.

I've had little sunbursts, like realizing today at work that it was 5:20 and I could go home for the weekend, but I was happy sipping on a beer and talking to a couple coworkers. (I love my job!) I had a great dinner tonight with ER, her boyfriend and a few others. And my weekend's got a pretty big to-do list, with everything from the standard time at the gym and cleaning my apartment, to the not-so-standard tasks of wedding dress shopping and making care packages for friends in Iraq and Afghanistan.

I ordered K's birthday presents last night. I didn't realize it until K told me yesterday on the phone, but next weekend is the last time we'll see each other for about a month. Again. He'll be training through the month of August, and it'll be a miserable few weeks for him, with really long, really hot days. We probably won't get to see each other until Labor Day, and since both of our birthdays come before that, next weekend is when we'll celebrate.

It's frustrating that K could be deploying to Iraq in November and we're spending so much time apart right now. Although we still don't have a verdict on whether or not he'll deploy, every couple weeks something happens planning-wise that makes it seem more likely. There are precious few weekends from now until November, which makes missing four of them feel like a much bigger sacrifice.

One part of me is just ready to know if he'll deploy this year so we can start preparing ourselves for everything that means. And then there's my heart, which is doing an unbelievably good job of dismissing the fact that more plans are being made that point to their leaving.

I'm actually just realizing that I'm stressed about the possibilities. I've started really biting my nails again, and I hadn't done that in a long time. I've had a few people ask me point blank if I'm scared. That's such a confusing question to me. The love of my life could be going to a combat zone in a matter of months. The combat zone the media like to torture us with, giving constant "breaking news" updates on deaths, injuries and roadside bombs.

Maybe it's good it's not getting through to my heart how much of a possibility this deployment is. God knows the months he might be gone will be stressful enough without tacking some on beforehand.

I've gotta get used to rolling with the (changing) plans

K called me yesterday while I was at work. I could hear in his voice that he was upset about something. "What's wrong?" I asked him.

"Do you want the bad, or the worst?"

I felt my heart start racing, and I could feel my eyes starting to sting. "I ... I don't know," I said. My mind starting going crazy: Did he get word early on whether he deploys? Is he leaving early (remember last year, he had less than two weeks' notice before Afghanistan)? Is he leaving now? He's supposed to spend August training, so we won't get to see each other -- again -- for our birthdays. Are they going straight into training, meaning I don't see him until September?

K proceeded to tell me that they'd be working straight through the weekend. It wouldn't make sense for me to drive to Louisiana as planned, since he'll be working. Which means we won't get to see each other.

I was relieved that I had to wait a mere two weeks as opposed to a month and a half or having to get ready for a year without him. Obviously, I was sad that I won't get to see him this weekend, but I was much more relieved that it wasn't as bad as I had thought.

Now that I'm looking at a weekend in Dallas instead of in the car, I've started planning things I'm going to get done:

• Dress shopping with ER and a coworker.
• Making care packages -- and lots of cookies -- for K's friends (who've become my friends) who are deployed.
• Making shirts.

I've found a few websites with military support shirts, and some are pretty cute. I found one that I really like the idea of, but I want a different style than what the site offers. My solution? I'll make my own! I already have plenty of experience doing it anyway. And just two months from last Sunday, I can totally rock this shirt:

Serious bling

The reason K and I headed back to Dallas so quickly yesterday is because we needed to go shopping for our wedding bands. With K's schedule being pretty packed until the Florida wedding, this weekend was the best time to go.

We went to the store where K got my ring and looked at their wedding bands. K found a ring pretty quickly that he liked, and it was less than $150 (woohoo, titanium!). It's really nice, and very him. And it's sitting in his apartment now in Louisiana.

(End the easy part.)

With K's search complete, we headed over to the section devoted to the designer of my engagement ring.

The jeweler who was helping us was probably in his late 50s or 60s, and he was clearly from the old-school generation of thought where the man shows his love by providing for his family, which meant he was a different kind of salesman than we were used to.

He took a look at my ring and found the band that matched it. It was gorgeous.

He handed the band to me, and I slid it onto my finger. I was surprised by how much I didn't love it when it was next to my ring. When you mixed all the diamonds of the wedding band along with the perfect, slender, ornate band of my engagement ring, it was too much. The simplicity of my ring -- the slender, delicate band; the simple solitaire -- was gone. (I realize my band isn't simple, but I think there's still a simplicity to the ring as a whole, if that makes sense.)

When I added the wedding band to my engagement ring, all I saw was sparkle. I felt like my solitaire got lost in the glitter of the bands. Instead of a beautiful, tiny band on my finger, there was now a wide band of diamonds. The combination looked extravagant, fancy, sparkly, expensive -- all of which I think don't suit me.

"Oh, now that completes the picture," the salesman said, looking at the rings combined. Then, looking at K, "Will that be cash, check or charge?"

I laughed nervously at his joke. Only he looked serious. I decided the best thing to do then was to be honest with the salesman. "This band is beautiful," I said, "but it's too much. I like simple things. When I look at my hand with this band on, all I see are diamonds, and it's not that that's a bad thing, but it's not what I'd had in mind."

I told him that K had done such a great job of choosing my ring that I loved it just the way it was -- with the thin band, and with the way the solitaire stands out. I told him I felt like the solitaire was lost when the band was added. I even told him I'd considered keeping my ring as is, either not adding a wedding band, or just wearing the band on my right hand, since I like it so much as it is.

"Well then you'd be walking around unmarried, and we can't have that!" said the salesman. He told me that now, I'm excited to be engaged, so I want the solitaire to stand out. That once I'm married, I won't mind if the diamond doesn't stand out as much as when the ring is on its own. He told me that the band was made to go with the ring and that the two together weren't too much.

I had handed the band back to him, and as he talked, he moved it around in his fingers, letting it catch all the light. As he twirled it around in his hands, I caught sight of the price tag, which made me gasp and admit what I'd just seen. I thought I was going to hyperventilate, and I fought off the urge to cry right there. I can't remember the discussion after that point, but eventually, the salesman told me I'd get used to the band, and he had me put it back on my finger. "Now will that be cash, check or charge?" he asked K again.

To be honest, at that point, I was ready to leave. I felt kind of pressured, and I didn't want K to be spending that much on a ring I wasn't so in love with I couldn't live without it.

K asked the salesman to leave us for a minute. K told me he wished I hadn't seen the price tag. He said that the price didn't matter, since I'd be wearing the ring for the rest of my life. I told him I hadn't expected my wedding band to be so expensive. "Well, me either," he said, "but then I saw it on your hand, and it just looks so perfect."

I told K again that I'd wanted a simpler band. "Well, look at this," he said, and he turned the wedding band upside down, so that only the solid platinum of the underside was showing. It looked ridiculous, just a solid platinum band next to the ornate band of my ring. It didn't go together at all. While I hadn't planned on just a solid band like that, I could see his point. We talked for a few more seconds about it before K called the salesman back over.

The fancy, elaborate wedding band is now being sized from a 7 to a 5 1/2. I'll pick it up on Wednesday. I still feel anxious about the price and the whole trip. But I'm eager to pick it up so I can get another look at it. Maybe when it's the right size, it won't be so overwhelming. Maybe it just looked that way under all those bright jewelry store lights.

Maybe in September when K and I are out on the beach in Florida, I'll realize when he slips it on my finger that I really do like the way it looks. Maybe I'm just kidding myself about not wanting a ring so sparkly and fancy. Maybe I just talked myself out of liking that style because I was sure I'd never have it.

I really really hope that's the case.

Evidently food has been a big deal to me the last few days

My brother didn't make it into Dallas Thursday night, which meant I got to go to sleep early. That was good, since K and I went to happy hour with ER and a couple other friends. ER had just gotten back from a month-long vacation to Asia, so it was cool to hang out with her again and hear all of her stories from her trip.

The Mexican restaurant we went to for happy hour is one that K and I love to go to. We'd never been for happy hour, though, and were surprised at the special and how much they don't make the drinks like it's happy hour: The house margarita is only $2, and it tastes like it has $8 worth of alcohol in it! Most of us had two, so we stuffed ourselves, then sat around for a while longer drinking plenty of water so we would all be fine to drive home.

When we got to my apartment, K and I were way too stuffed to go to the gym, so we laid on the couch watching TV. I crashed in the middle of the movie we were watching, and I only woke up at 11-ish because my brother was calling to tell us he'd made it to Atlanta, but he was stuck there for the night. I guess Atlanta had had some severe weather, and my brother's flight to Atlanta had been delayed enoughthat he'd missed his connecting flight to Dallas. He had to spend the night in the airport and go on standby for a 9 a.m. flight. That didn't work, so he wound up on the 11 a.m. flight to Dallas.

That actually worked out well for us, because K and I had lunch plans with Heather and B. It was a fun lunch! K really liked both of them. We all decided we'd have to go out again soon, but for dinner and happy hour, when we can stay out longer than a lunch break.

After lunch, K picked up my brother from the airport, and he drove my car to Oklahoma. Luckily, the flight delay didn't ruin my brother's surprise of visiting. My dad said when my grandma saw him, she started crying. :)

K and I headed up to OK after I finished working. We had the best steak dinner in the world, courtesy of my dad, the butcher, and we just relaxed for the rest of the night.

Saturday, we had my dad's famous barbecue for lunch (I've gotta get all that stuff while I'm at home!), hung out in the pool for a bit that afternoon, and went to my favorite Mexican restaurant back home for dinner. K and I woke up early Sunday (early for the weekend, anyway) and headed back to Dallas. We had a few errands to run, which I'll blog about later, and we ate at Fuddruckers, which is another favorite of mine and K's. We relaxed the rest of the evening before K left.

After that, I went to the gym, and my trip led me to the conclusion that 6 p.m. on Sunday is the best time to go. It was practically empty, and since my evening was free, I was in a total workout mood. I ran 5 miles on the elliptical, and then I spent another 15 minutes on the bike. I burned over 700 calories, which was a good thing after the weekend I had just had. It felt so good to be doing all that cardio that I really kind of wanted to keep going, but I had to meet a friend to decorate a coworker's desk for her birthday. Hopefully that gym mood is still hanging around tonight!

That's a lot of excitement in a 24-hour period

K got in last night, and we actually got to go to dinner on a Wednesday! We went to my favorite restaurant, Johnny Carinos, which I'd totally been craving. I got to have a bellini, which I absolutely love (Johnny Carinos makes 'em the best!), and some guy who works for the company was at the restaurant and bought everyone there a small bottle of wine (like a two-glass-sized bottle) since it was half-price bottle night. We talked and laughed so much during dinner that I was wondering if our server thought we were drunk (even after a bellini and a glass of wine, with the amount of food I ate, I don't think it was possible for me to get drunk!).

K's coming to my office today, and we'll go to lunch together. Tonight, I think we're going to work out together at my gym. I'm excited about getting to do those normal, everyday things with K. We don't get to do that very often.

And just after midnight, we're picking up my brother from the airport. Not very many people know he's coming in (I think it's just my dad, K and my dad's girlfriend who know), so he's surprising most everyone. To keep from ruining the surprise, K and I will drive to OK to meet my dad halfway so my brother can be home Friday morning. It's gonna be a long night!

This Pennsylvania trip made my life seem pretty sheltered

My weekend with K was awesome. After 2.5 hours of sleep Thursday night, I got up at 4 a.m. so I could leave at 4:30 to get to the airport in plenty of time for my flight. I wasn't really as tired as I thought I'd be, which was a nice surprise. Guess my theory on the adrenaline and excitement was true.

When I got to Pennsylvania just after noon, K was waiting for me at the airport with a bouquet of yellow calla lilies, which will be our Florida wedding flower. Evidently people only want white calla lilies in PA, so his florist had gone through all this trouble to get them in yellow. The flowers were beautiful, and it was really sweet of K to get those specific flowers for me since we'll have them in our wedding. It was actually the first time I've seen yellow callas in person -- at least, it's the first time I've seen them and known they were calla lilies -- so it was cool to familiarize myself with them before I carry them in my bouquet in Florida.















K and I had a nice lunch together and headed back to his house, where we took a nap before spending time with his dad and brother for a bit and then going out with a few of his friends. There's a great cover band we always wind up seeing when I'm in PA, and I jokingly asked if we were going to see them that night. "Are you serious?" K asked. Turns out they were playing that night at the same bar we always manage to see them performing. We decided to go, and we had a blast.















The next day, we went to the campground where K spent most of his summers growing up. We made some smores with a few friends, which was awesome because I'd been wanting to make them. That was my second time to have smores in the last few months, and honestly, I think that means the amount of times I've had smores in my entire life has now tripled. I was really excited about making them that night, and once K's friends realized I'd only had smores once before, they proceeded to watch me make and eat them with the intensity of parents watching their baby attempt her first steps. There was even a camera involved. That was a little odd and slightly uncomfortable, but at least the smores were pretty freakin' good.















At around 11 that night, we traipsed through the woods with a couple of K's buddies and shot off fireworks by the river. I can't believe I'm going to admit this online, but it's amazing what you'll do when you're in the middle of nowhere after a day of drinking a lot of water and managing to add a couple of beers on top of that: I peed outside. Twice. I had no choice. I think the last time I did that, I was fishing with my grandparents, and I couldn't have been more than 10 years old. So that was a big moment for me. A big moment that I won't revisit for a long time.

It was fun (the river/fireworks experience -- not the peeing outside), though, and the area b the river was really pretty. K's buddies' method of shooting fireworks is completely appropriate for a Fireworks: How NOT to video, but we all came out unharmed.





























We stayed out until about 3 a.m. popping fireworks. Now, I'm definitely no tomboy. Far from it, in fact (in case you hadn't figured that out). I hate getting dirty. I'll do fun things that usually mean you get dirty, but I usually do a pretty good job of staying clean. And if I do manage to get dirty (or feel like I did), I am really happy once I can get in the shower afterward. And really cranky if that shower is delayed.

So imagine how I felt when K and I tried to get into his camper that night, only to find that his dad, who was sleeping inside, had locked us out. I had to go to bed without brushing my teeth, without my Clinique facewash, and without taking out my contacts. I had to go to bed in the same shirt I'd worn all day, in the same underwear I'd worn after peeing outside twice. I was not happy. Luckily, though, one of K's friends had a sleeper sofa in his camper, so we had a place to stay.

That next day, we got around pretty early (for having been up until after 4 a.m.) and cleaned up before heading to K's aunt's house for dinner with several of his relatives. We had a nice lunch with them. His family is all so close-knit, and I like them all a lot. I hadn't seen most of them since this time last year, which meant I hadn't seen them since before we got engaged. It was nice to catch up, and they make me feel like a part of the family already.

After lunch, K and I were on the road to Harrisburg, where we met a couple friends who drove up from Washington, D.C. to meet us. We had dinner with them, then walked around City Island. It's a really neat area, with a ballpark and lots of cute little things to do along the river. We saw a groundhog by the water, which was neat. I don't think I'd ever seen one before, and if I had, it was probably in a zoo or some sort of captivity, unlike this one.

K and I had just realized a few days before that we'd never played miniature golf together, so it was funny that that's what we wound up doing with our friends after dinner. We always have fun with these friends, and the miniature golf game was no different. I played much better than I thought I would, since I can only remember going miniature golfing two or three times before. I expected to completely suck, but I managed to surprise all of us a few times.





























































After the game and an ice cream cone (I think that may have been my first double-dip cone -- I've just always had really good willpower), K and I headed to Hershey to have coffee with K's friend whose wedding we went to in April. The funny thing? They're pregnant already. (I told K there will be no impregnating in our relationship until we're married at least 700 days. Considering the total number of days we've spent together consecutively is a whopping 11, I think a couple baby-free years is not such a bad idea for us.) They're really excited about it, though, and K's friend seems really happy.

By the time K and I were driving back to his house, it was about 11:15. We talked about the whole religion thing. Midnight wasn't the best time to be having that discussion for K. He was pretty tired, even though he was the one driving, and he was really focusing on the road to make up for it. The conversation got better, though, as the drive went on. It turned into a nice talk about our beliefs and our future. I told him how blessed I feel about the path my life has taken the last few years. I really feel like things keep just falling into place for me. It's amazing, and I don't know what I've done to deserve it.

We talked about how lucky we feel to have found each other, how much we are looking forward to September, how much we can't wait until we get to live together, and about other things in our future. It was one of those conversations I know I'll always remember.

We got home late that night, and we relaxed the next day and spent time with his brother, who'd taken off work for the day. The three of us went to lunch and drove out to this seminary in the area where some volunteers had put up 4,018 flags -- one for each soldier killed in Afghanistan and Iraq. It was unbelievable to see how many flags there were. My camera batteries died after one picture, and this is only a section of the flags.















We took it easy that afternoon, and that night, I flew home. I wasn't ready to say goodbye to K, but it was easier since I knew he'd be coming to Dallas on Wednesday. Besides, I don't know if I could've handled many more near-firsts in such a short time frame!

At least I got caught up yesterday

I'll be on hiatus for a few days. I'm headed up to Pennsylvania this weekend to see K for the first time since early June. I'm excited, but we'll be really busy. There are about 500 people we're supposed to see up there this weekend. It'll be fun, but hectic.

Go figure that with everything I had to do tonight, I wound up working late -- until 8. I got home, ready to do some laundry and get to packing, only to find that my laundry room is still not back in order.

The maintenance guys have put up fresh sheetrock and painted the room. I guess they were waiting for the paint to dry before moving my washer and dryer back in. Which meant that it (I have a stackable) was still on my front porch. Classy.

I was able to go to a friend's apartment to do laundry, but it meant I got a really late start on everything I needed to do, since I can't pack while I'm at someone else's place.

So now it's 1:15, and I'll be waking up in 2 1/2 hours. At least I'll be excited when I wake up because it'll mean I'm on my way to go see K. After that little sleep, I'm gonna need all the help I can get!

Because I'm behind ...

I bet you thought (or hoped) it was impossible to read about mold and a wedding dress in the same post, but this is what happens when you get busy. You're in for a random, picture-filled, multi-purpose post!

Part 1: Fourth of July
Pictures from my family reunion. The ranch where we had it is so cute!





























Remember this couple?















Part 2: Not a good way to make friends with your neighbors
So the lovely lady who lives upstairs and seems to have no idea that the floor she pounds her feet so heavily into with every step happens to be my ceiling also seems to have no idea that when something's leaking in her apartment on the third floor, it can mean bad things for those on floors beneath her. Imagine my surprise when I went into my laundry room last weekend and saw water dripping from my light in the ceiling. I called the emergency maintenance line, and they went upstairs to stop the leak. I was told they'd be back in the next day or two to repaint the walls, since they were slightly moldy.

Well, that was a week ago, and it's much worse now. This is what it looked like until this morning, when they gutted the closet (which, thankfully, is off my balcony, away from the rest of my apartment so I don't die from breathing in black mold). Now, thanks to my lovely neighbor, I can't do laundry tonight, which I'd planned on doing so I could start packing for seeing K this weekend. Needless to say, neighbor's not on my good list tonight.



















































































Part 3: The Dallas dress?
I think I found it. And my veil. When CG was here, we went dress shopping. I'd seen this one in the catalogue and online and had really liked it. It was a lot like the dress I really liked the first time I went shopping, only this one had the two elements I'd wished one of the dresses that day had had: the sweep train and the lace-up back.

(FYI: This dress is a size too big, so the front will look better when that's fixed.)
























































The thing is, though, that this dress is only in ivory in stores, with the champagne detailing. It's pretty, but I'll want white. I like the contrast, though, and that would be lost with white-on-white. Will you even be able to see the pretty bow in the back if it's white, like the rest of the dress? And white with champagne would be pretty, but the champagne would clash with the yellow flowers I'll be carrying. That's not good.

Or I could get the dress with blue details. I normally don't like color on wedding dresses, but is this good color on a wedding dress? (Keep in mind our colors will be that royal blue and a pale yellow.)

Why you should always think before you speak

(from a conversation at work yesterday with a coworker)

CW: You're so lucky you get to come in late tomorrow.

Me: Whatever! It's because I've got my not-fun doctor's appointment -- the "You're gonna feel a little pinch" one. Yeah, whatever.

CW: Oooooh. Yeah. I haven't been to that appointment in years!

Me: Are you serious? That's the one appointment I always keep up with. [pausing]

Well, that and oil changes.

Choosing my religion

Last Sunday, I did something I've never done in my life: I went to church by myself.

I'm a big people person, and for some reason, the thought of doing something by myself has never been that appealing to me. I can go to Wal-Mart by myself or to the mall by myself, and it's no big deal. Living by myself has made me a lot more comfortable doing things alone than I used to be. I can't imagine ever going to the movies or out to eat by myself, but going to church alone was actually kind of nice.

The church I go to here is ER's church. I've been several times over the last two or three years with her and her family, and even a few times without them. Her church is actually a different religion than mine. It's more liberal than the Baptist church (I was raised Baptist), but so are my beliefs. I really like this church. I like the members, the pastors and the tone of the sermons. I feel comfortable at that church.

I've been thinking lately about becoming a member there, but I'm not really sure what to do. I don't want to join a church only to attend every few weeks (can you even do that?). With everything still up in the air with K this fall, my future in Dallas is pretty uncertain. If K deploys this fall, I won't be spending all those weekends on the road driving to see him, so I'll most likely join the church. If he doesn't deploy, I'll be moving in May, so I'll just go to the church when we're in town. It wouldn't make sense to join.

One of the things that really appeals to me about this church is that I see it as a good compromise. K was raised Catholic, and this church seems to be a good balance between the Catholic and Baptist religions. The thought of converting to Catholicism is a little scary to me for some reason, but joining this church doesn't seem like such a big change.

The pastor is out of town this week, so I guess that gives me time to think things over and even talk about it with K when I see him this weekend. I think we're going to meet with his priest while I'm there too, so it'll be interesting to see if that comes up with him.

We won't have definite word on K's deployment until August or September, and I probably won't take any steps toward joining the church until after that news. At least that gives me plenty of time to think things over, talk to K about it, and ask plenty of questions with ER and maybe even the pastor before I make my decision.

Now THAT's the way to leave your reception!

I swear, this is the year of weddings for me. And Saturday was the day of weddings for the entire country. Thirty-five thousand weddings took place yesterday, and I found myself at one of them. It was a guy friend of mine from college. I hadn't seen him in a long time, and I was really surprised I was invited to the wedding since it had been so long. It was cool, though, to see a lot of the people I've seen lately at other weddings this summer, along with some fresh faces who had missed the others.

To really get the full effect of the 07/07/07 date, the ceremony didn't start until -- you guessed it -- 7 p.m. The wedding was a Catholic wedding, but there was no mass at the ceremony, so it wasn't quite as long. Good thing, because by the time the bridal party made it to the reception (which was at least 20 minutes from the ceremony), we were starving. I looked at my watch as we stood in the endless line for the buffet. It was 9:40, which is way too late to be patient about waiting for dinner.

Our wedding favors at each of our chairs was a lotto ticket -- the Lucky 7 game. The girl next to me won $27. Me? Nadda. The cocktail napkins said "Lucky in Love" and had three sevens on them. Definitely a themed wedding.















































The bartenders were a little stingy on the wine. We started joking about how the not-even-half-full-wine-glasses weren't even worthy of a full "Cheers!" Even a "Ch!" was a little much for them, but that was the toast we went with. You can't really cut it off any more than that. (And yes, these are our glasses as the bartender poured them.)















Other than those unique differences, the wedding and reception were pretty standard. Until it was time for the bride and groom to leave.

At 11:20 p.m., the bride and groom were rushing to say their goodbyes to everyone. All of us guests made two lines for them to walk through as they made their big exit. Instead of the standard limo, though, or even a fire truck or insanely expensive or bizarre car, they hopped into a helicopter. Yes, a helicopter.

We all cheered as it lifted a few feet above the ground, then turned so the side of the copter where the bride and groom were seated was facing us. We all waved at them and cheered again as it lifted higher and headed over our heads. They did one quick (and by that I mean fast) flyby before disappearing into the night sky.

It was awesome. I totally told K we have to find a helicopter now (just kidding -- unless you know a pilot!).
































Rocking the windblown look after the helicopter left.

Much less stressed than a week ago today

Remember that huge, terrible, awful decision I had last Friday that I was supposed to make all by myself? Well, I didn't. I mean, I made it, just not totally by myself.

My co-worker, Brian, came along with me Friday on our lunch break to Place A. There were several things he just didn't like about it. I took pictures and video, and I showed it to other co-workers. I sent it to K. And Heather. And CG.

On Saturday, I brought Heather and Brian with me to Place B. I talked to the woman there who I've loved working with from the beginning. I was honest with her, telling her about how the other place had made my decision really difficult with the $3,000 we'd save. I apologized for taking so long to get her my signed contract.

Being in the large, spacious ballroom again with its twinkly lights on the ceiling, and working with a woman who gave me plenty of info without making me ask all the questions (after all, I'm not the one with all the wedding-planning experience, although I think I'm getting there quickly!) made my decision much easier than I thought it would be.

I'd loved that place from the beginning, and that's where I'd wanted to go all along. The thought of having $3,000 more to use for other things just had me blinded. The woman at Place B was awesome, though, giving me tips on how we could reduce our price there as well. And the best part? We can totally have Italian food and BBQ there too!

I was sold. I signed the contract -- quite happily, and with no fear that I'd made the wrong decision.

Although I totally wasted their time since I was ignoring the fact my mind was made up already, it was nice to have my decision confirmed by two very honest friends with very good taste.

The man's perspective

(from a conversation with K earlier this evening)

Me: Do you know if your cousin is registered at Bed Bath & Beyond? I've got three of those 20% off coupons. If they're registered there, I can bring one when I come up next week, and we can get their gift now instead of having to scramble around when we come up for their wedding.

K: Yeah, we could do that.

Me: Do you know where they're registered?

K: No. [pausing] Why don't people just include that stuff in their invitations: "The bride and groom are registered here."?

Me: Because it's considered distasteful.

K: Why?

Me: Because it sends the message that people have to bring a gift if they come to your wedding.

K: Well what shitbag goes to a wedding and doesn't give a gift? It's like a circle of life: A person dies; a person is born. You come to our wedding, I feed you; you give me a slotted spoon.

Can it be next Friday already?

My family reunion yesterday was really fun. I missed it last year because I was in PA with K. It's always good to see my family members and to catch up on what's gone on since the last time we saw each other. Now that all the cousins around my age are all grown up, we look at the ones we remember being babies at the reunions. Those kids are driving now. And even though we're only in our early to mid-20s, it's crazy to see them and remember when they ran around the whole time in just a diaper.

I wished K could have been there. He finished up at We$t Po!nt on Tuesday, so he drove down that night to Pennsylvania to see his family. Everyone at the reunion asked about him. I felt like I told people a billion times why he wasn't there and why we were having two weddings.

Once the fireworks started, I was really missing K. The Fourth of July in 2005 is one of my favorite memories with him. We had just seen each other again for the first time since the weekend we met. He got to Dallas on July 2, and we immediately left for Oklahoma to see my family and watch my brother race. Everyone loved him, and by the end of July 4, we both knew we'd get married someday.

We watched the big fireworks show in my hometown, and then we sat outside on the fence by dad's house watching the fireworks all over the town. A thunderstorm was rolling in from far off on the horizon. We just talked and learned more about each other. It was a really nice night.

Last year was fun, too. It was more of a silly experience, but we had a blast.

Which made me really miss K as I sat watching the fireworks near my grandparents, my dad and his girlfriend, and my cousin and her new husband. I haven't seen K in almost a month. I leave next Friday to see him in Pennsylvania.

I hope this next week goes quickly.

And then there was one

I live by myself, in a one-bedroom apartment, with one bathroom. It's perfect for just me. I've lived by myself for one year, 11 months and three weeks. For a likely OCD person who loves things to be "just so," that's a lot of time to get used to finding things right where you left them.

I love having people come to visit me -- especially if it's someone I haven't seen in a while -- but at the same time, if they stay for several days, I'm always glad to have my place to myself again.
It was great to see CG again and to have her staying with me. We went dress shopping, looked at magazines, and hung out and caught up. It was nice.

However, we are totally different people. I like my air conditioner set to 78. To me, the air conditioner is a mechanism that makes your home cool, not cold. Not to CG. She prefers to be bundled up under blankets in the summer. CG feels "sticky" and hot when I feel comfortable. But the biggest difference (at least when she's staying at my place, it feels like the biggest difference) is that I'm ultra-neat and orderly, while she's quite a bit more on the laid-back side -- but only when it comes to cleaning.

CG talks at about 300 miles an hour, and she always has really long stories to tell; she constantly flips through channels on TV; she tosses and turns in her sleep; and she's developed a recent list of random allergies (dairy products and even Mary Kay makeup) and a very opininated stomach (Saturday night, she had a stomach ache and thought Mexican food would give her indigestion. Sunday afternoon, she was craving Mexican. So much, in fact, that we had it again at her request last night.). She requires a lot of energy. But it's one of the things I love about her.

I really enjoyed her visit. But I'm really going to enjoy having my cozy little place to myself again.

Airports can be pretty awesome

CG got into town last night for something she has to do this week for her pageant reign. I went to pick her up at the airport.

I waited in the baggage claim area for her. I went to the middle of the room, but farthest away from the arrival doors so as not to add to the cluster of people who would make it very difficult for those arriving to actually get through the doors.

I watched as people started coming in one by one. A soldier came through in uniform. I heard someone start clapping, but I didn't think anything of it. When two or three more people joined, I wondered what was going on. The it clicked that they were clapping for the soldier.

Since the soldier was arriving in uniform in the airport, he was probably returning from some sort of training. He wasn't coming back from combat. If that were the case, he'd only have a layover in Dallas before flying on to his base, where he'd arrive to a welcome-home ceremony.

A couple more soldiers came through the doors, and everyone clapped for them too. I started tearing up. One female soldier entered the baggage claim area. I noticed a man seated a few feet from me rise to his feet and walk toward the doors. The woman ran toward him, jumped into his arms and stayed there for a long time. By that point, I started crying. I know what that's like.

By then, more and more soldiers were coming through the doors. We clapped for every last one of them. I don't know if the other people standing with me knew that they were more likely returning from some sort of training than from combat, but I'd like to think they did. A large portion of a soldier's job involves some sort of sacrifice. Training, even though it's safer than deploying, is still a hard thing to go through, since it means we're away for weeks at a time from the service members we love.

CG's flight arrived, and I moved closer to the door so she could see me before getting lost in the crowd of people. As soon as she came through the door, she saw me. We hugged and made our way over to the less-crowded side of the baggage claim room. We were talking and catching up when I looked over my shoulder to see someone who looked very familiar walking right by me. "Oh my gosh!" I said to CG. "That guy looks just like --" and then I saw a girl behind him looking like she was about to scream.

"Is that who I think it is?" I asked her. She nodded profusely. "Shut up!" I said. I whirled back around to look at him. "That is so cool!"

"Who? Who is it?" CG asked.

"It's Andre 3000!!!"

CG only listens to Christian music and some Broadway musical music, so she didn't know who Andre 3000 was. "He's from Outkast!" I told her. "You know the song 'Hey Ya'? He's the one who says 'Shake it like a Polaroid picture'!" That triggered it for her.

We debated going to ask him for a picture, but it was obvious he was trying to be incognito. He was wearing a straw hat, and he had the brim pulled down to try to hide his face. He was talking on his cell phone, and he immediately walked to the back of the baggage claim area, where he wouldn't be so easily seen.

Since he was on his phone, CG and I decided to not bug him. Once he hung up, we debated whether or not we should go say hi or something. A few others did. A guy next to us said they'd asked if they could take his picture, but he'd said no. It was disappointing, but I could understand. After all, he's probably just trying to get out of there like everyone else.

I decided it would be better to not bug Andre 3000. I would play it cool and not go up and tell him I think he's awesome. Instead, I proceeded to repeat, "Shut up! That is so cool!" and stare at him every two seconds with my jaw on the ground. Which I'm sure he appreciated much more.

We left the baggage claim area for a minute, and when we returned on the opposite side from where Andre 3000 had staked himself out earlier, I was surprised to see we were passing him again. He had a large suitcase with him, and he stopped off at the ATM. "He's probably withdrawing like $5,000!" I told CG.

I watched him go to the vending machine. This toolbox college-age kid in a blue polo shirt strolled up to Andre 3000 cooly (except the opposite). "Uh, excuse me, sir, but I couldn't help but notice you look a bit familiar. What's your name?"

Andre 3000 looked at him blankly. If I were him, I'd have been very annoyed. "Andre," he said. His voice sounded just like it does in his songs.

I listened closely, trying to hear what the toolbox was saying next, but I couldn't hear him. Andre 3000 just shook his head at the guy. After less than a minute, toolbox guy headed back to his friends, saying, "I just met Outkast!"

Andre 3000 left the baggage claim area shortly after that. Although it was awesome to see him, I had really wanted to get a picture with him. I couldn't help but wonder if he'd have turned down a picture if we'd have had a Polaroid camera.