Archive for the ‘The Wedding’ Category
Okay, it took me literally about an hour to do all the editing (I’m slow, I know it), but here they are. The last wedding pictures left to share. It’s the end of an era.
I’m so poetic. Let’s get started, eh?
First, very early in the photographic sequence, there was a bug under the top layer of my dress. How many adults does it take to get a bug out of the biggest dress of all time? 3 apparently. Do you notice anything else odd about this picture?
Next, a moment to be captured on film- the first look. In which both of us appear to be looking at Slappy’s crotch. What was that about?
And then a picture with all the little people in the wedding. Especially the crying baby. And the flower girl who is LOVING it.
Another quality moment was when the Rabbi declared us officially engaged. What is one to do in such a situation? Fist. pump.
So after we got married we tried to do some more pictures, but my brain was, well fried. Or drunk. With LOVE. Example: the photographer wanted a picture of us holding hands and pulling slightly away. I did not understand. And oh, you’ll notice a trend, my wedding day was also dramatic laughing day. Just fyi.
Oh, what? More dramatic laughing? Whodda thunk?
And as I got less intelligent, I also got less capable of smiling. Good thing I have 2 helpful sisters. I’d call them “special” and I’ll let you figure out what the quotation marks denote.
Onto the reception. I alluded in a previous wedding post about the dip during the dance. I did not want to be dipped. I had images of falling on my head in front of all my family and friends and I made those very clear. My husband, his hearing, it’s not so good…(notice the yokels in the background laughing at my expense)
Then there was the always entertaining Harry Potter who at one point came back from playing around the room (in the middle of dinner and about an hour before cake was served) and exclaimed “I GOT CAKE!” Ha. We’ll be showing this picture to all of his future girlfriends.
And last but not least, the cake. I also was quite clear here that I didn’t want cake in my face (yes, I’m a nag, I’m aware), so instead I got a gigantic bite of frosting.
So Slappy got the biggest bite of cake ever. And then shared it with me via a narsty kiss.
And those, my friends, are the last of the wedding pictures I’m going to share. Mostly because that was a time/life/energy sucking vortex and I never want to try and wipe someone’s face out of a picture again. Now we just need to sit down together and decide which 50 of the 798 pictures we want to put in an album. I’m sure it won’t take long. Probably not as long as wiping Slappy’s face off every picture with an atom sized eraser square.
I said probably.
I’m still working on the outtake pictures from the wedding, but I have many honeymoon pictures (ALL of which are G rated, by the way) to share, so I’m going to get started on those.
We were on the island of Maui in a little area called Napili, at one of the condo type resorts. We had our own kitchen, washer, dryer, etc, but also had housekeeping service. The best of both worlds. If you’re ever looking to go to Maui, email me and I’ll give you all the necessary details.
Here’s our hotel:
The view out from the porch
(This cove is where we did most of our snorkeling and where we saw no less than 15 gigantic sea turtles. They were incredible. Pictures eventually when I get them developed)
If you are ever in Maui, regardless of which side of the island you are on, there is one place you absolutely MUST eat. We ate breakfast here 4 separate times. And holy crap. The best food I’ve ever eaten. I’m not even slightly joking. This restaurant, called the Gazebo, is open from like 7 to 2, and there will always be a line. But the line moves and even if it didn’t, it would be so beyond worth the wait. Why you ask?
Well, first, here’s the view we had on our walk from our hotel to the Gazebo.
And then there’s the FOOD. Oh. my. God. They serve breakfast and lunch, but their pancakes are to die for. I tried 4 different versions and by far my favorite were these: banana macadamia nut white chocolate chip pancakes. With whipped cream, coconut and maple syrup. Be still my heart.
Slappy’s last meal there was a Monte Cristo. Considering that I’m allergic to eggs, I did not partake, but he assured me that it was excellent. Other noteworthy dishes (according to him) included an omelet and the breakfast burrito.
We also got to mingle with wildlife, like the mangiest bird ever, of which we have like 12 pictures of because Slappy is the master of taking 10,000 terrible (usually candid) pictures, hence the above one of me looking half-unconscious.
That’s just the hotel and food. Tomorrow will be the Luau (fun drunk pictures!) and our hiking trip. Eventually I’ll get the snorkeling pictures back because your lives won’t be complete if you don’t see me looking like an albino in a bikini.
So, I do now have the legal pictures, but not yet the ability to cover or blur faces or do anything to any of the pictures because I don’t have the “paint” software on my Mac. That, along with the solitaire games that only come on PCs are pretty much the only things I miss with my Mac.
But anyway, for now, this will have to do. And p.s.- this post is extremely long. If you finish, be sure to give yourself a pat on the back. And go eat a cookie or something. If you finish this entry, you really deserve it. I’m not providing it, but you deserve it anyway.
So I left off with the reception set up, and now onto the real reception. After the ceremony there was a cocktail hour where our guests had appetizers and copious quantities of alcohol (that’s how we got half our friends there, hello, hosted bar!). Meanwhile, Slappy and I had a few minutes alone to just sit and eat some appetizers ourselves and then we did more pictures (many of which you’ve already seen) and then eventually, it was time for the reception.
They got the wedding party all lined up outside the room and the DJ announced each couple, starting with Slappy’s parents. And this is where the problems sort of began (that is the non-ceiling caving in, marriage license typo, florist 2 hours late problems…). Slappy’s mother has a very lovely name, however, if you reverse 2 of the letters, it’s a slightly less lovely name (in her opinion at the very least). And of course, that’s how the DJ announced her. In her own words, she believes that her announced name is a cow’s name, and she was, um, irritated, to say the least (I was amused to say the very least). Then the DJ introduced my parents together, rather than with their respective spouses (ha, it was pretty funny too) and then mispronounced Slappy’s brother’s name. And it’s not a hard name. It’s 3 letters long, seriously? It’s just not that challenging.
But defying all the odds, the DJ got our names right and we were announced. And here’s us walking in. Oh wait, that’s right, it’s just me walking in because my husband stopped to talk to friends.
And then we did our first dance. I have only a few pictures of this because Slappy was kind of all up in those pictures, but you should know that the best picture of the bunch was from our first dance. I had been struggling with my dress getting caught between my legs (it was gargantuan) which had a lot to do with the fact that my sister missed a bustle when she got me ready for the reception, but one of the ways Slappy helped me cope with this was to twirl me, and of course, much to my dismay and pleading otherwise, dipping me. So once I find the ability to cover his face, I’ll post the picture because it’s priceless. But here are a few to give you a small taste. Oh, in the end we decided on the Keith Urban song, “Making Memories of Us” for our first dance. It was the first song Slappy ever suggested for the first dance and it worked beautifully.
After this, we had toasts, first from my sister, and then from Slappy’s brother. There’s another priceless picture here during Slappy’s brother’s toast, which was funny, but I can’t show it to you. So here’s us at our sweetheart table and then hugging my sister after her toast.
After the toasts, Slappy’s dad did a traditional Jewish blessing over the world’s largest loaf of challah bread (you can see it in the first dance pictures), which was then broken into pieces and served at each table, along with caesar salad. Some guests were not really sure of what to do with the challah. Or perhaps they’re just smart asses. Hard to tell.
Since neither Slappy nor I were really hungry, we went around to each table, stopping first at my mom’s so that she could fix my bustling.
After that we ate dinner (a combination plate- steak and salmon with garlic mashed potatoes!) and then my dad gave a very funny and sweet toast. And then we danced. We danced to a song called “I loved her first” by Heartland. Google the lyrics and you’ll understand why my father bawled like a baby through about half the dance.
After we finished, Slappy dance with his mom to the Lee Ann Womack song “I hope you dance” which was decided upon after we rejected all her Celine Deon lovey dovey songs that were absolutely absurd for a woman who doesn’t like her own child. I have no pictures to share, but it was painful for Slappy since, shockingly I know, she likes to lead rather than follow. Plus, it singes your skin to touch the devil. Wait, did I say that out loud? Halfway through the dance everyone else joined them on the floor.
Shortly after this, Slappy and I cut the cake, which had a really great cake topper of personalized bobble heads. Sadly, they were lost after the cake was cut, but we got our money back and a lot of apologies. I, of course, have no pictures of this to show you either, but I can narrate pretty well what happened. I had been very clear with Slappy that I did not want cake smeared on my face. I was having my make up done and I just didn’t want to have to wipe all of it off or any of that. So we cut the cake and he goes to feed me a bite, and to his credit, he did not smear frosting on my face. Instead, he gave me a bite, a LARGE one, completely comprised of frosting. I like frosting, but a full bite of it? No. So I was perhaps not as tidy when I smashed cake into his mouth. And then he gave me a big frosting lips kiss, where I look like I’d rather consume garbage than kiss the frosting (not than kiss him, just the frosting part).
After the cake were the bouquet and garter tosses. My bouquet toss was rather uneventful with Slappy’s brother’s girlfriend (of the day) catching the bouquet. Though Slappy’s brother was in the bar watching tv or doing God knows what and missed it.
And then Slappy did the garter. Let me preface this with the fact that I hate the garter tradition. I think it’s raunchy, and Slappy spared no expense at making it as raunchy as possible. The only picture I can show you of his entire show is this, but note that he came out for air once and then we he emerged he had the garter in his mouth. However, regardless of what he tries to tell you, he did not remove it with his teeth.
After all the requisite traditions we did the last requisite Jewish tradition- the Hora. I don’t know the origin, I don’t know the real procedure but I do know that if you invite 115 guests and only 20 of them are Jewish, the Hora is much more complicated. All of Slappy’s family and family-friends got up and we danced in a bit circle (during which ALL of my bustles ripped out, but seriously, who even cares?) and then the chairs emerged. Oh yes, the chairs. Before I knew it, my satin covered ass was on a satin covered chair and I was slip-sliding through the air. I had 3 guys lifting me, meaning my chair was leaning to one side, but Slappy had 2 girls trying to lift him and it did not work quite as well. Combine that with the fact that the DJ (and all the gentiles) didn’t know the song was supposed to be played over and over so that everyone got up in the chairs, and well, it was not really a traditional hora. However, I had a blast and managed to save myself from certain death by jumping out of chair when I began truly sliding out of it. If you ever get married, do the hora. It’s ridiculously entertaining. Sort of a no-rules mosh pit with chairs and Hava Naguila.
When the hora was over we got the party really started. Slappy and I goofed around for a few minutes (twirling and tangoing, of course) and then everyone got their groove on. Slappy got his on a little too enthusiastically because about 2 minutes into the first free-for-all dancing song, I heard his sister laughing hysterically and then she pointed out the HUMONGOUS split in his pants. I’m not talking like just ripped the seat seam out of them, I’m talking like a 14 inch split down the butt and half the leg. It was hilarious.
So I had to then go track down someone who worked there, get a sewing kit and then lock us in an office to sew up Slappy’s pants. Of course, this was the point in the evening when everyone who came from out of town was leaving, and we were, of course, locked in a room and sans-pants. It was only slightly awkward. In the end, I did the best I could and then told him to tuck his shirt into his black underwear and we got back out there. Shortly after this, due to the heat (due to the air conditioning malfunction that caused the bridal suite to collapse in on itself) Slappy began shedding clothes anyway and once he lost the coat, vest and tie, he untucked his shirt and it was not noticeable. But I went ahead and told everyone anyway. I told you, it was hilarious.
I kept right on grooving, even sans-bustles and Slappy did the same, with shottily sewn pants.
We danced and danced and danced, until they made us leave at 11. We did manage to get the first dance song I had wanted at the end of the night, as our final dance (Ben Folds, The Luckiest). And I’m ever so slightly proud to announce that the MIL stomped back to her seat and REFUSED to dance during the last dance because of the song. Victory is mine.
I can honestly tell you it was the best day of my whole life. A lot of things went wrong, but almost all of them were incredibly comical and so much less bad than they could’ve been. And when it was all said and done, I was married to my best friend and we were in a limo on a way to a super fancy hotel before jetting off to our Hawaiian honeymoon.
In short, it rocked. And while it was so much work, and so much money and so much stress, if I had it to do over again, I wouldn’t do any of it differently. It was perfect.
(I still have 2 wedding related posts coming up- the honeymoon pictures (totally safe for work, perverts) and the “outtakes” from the wedding. You’ll see what I mean)
So all the wedding flower issues aside, the day was running remarkably smoothly. When the flowers were finished the guests were seated (at like 5:20), we began the ceremony.
One of the Jewish traditions is to have the groom walk down the aisle with both of his parents (technically the bride does the same, but I didn’t follow that tradition), and with permission I have a picture…of the back of their heads. Notice how the MIL is walking quite a bit farther to the middle of the aisle than she should be…
And then came the groomsmen/bridesmaids (of which I’m not posting any pictures because I don’t have permission), and then the ring bearer and flower girl (who are siblings and are my cousins) who were originally slated to walk by themselves, but one of the wedding day creative changes was to walk together. They were adorable, though admittedly, not a whole lot of flower petals were dropped.
And finally my dad and I began what was a very long walk to the aisle. He told me when we left the room that when we got to the fountain he was going to tell me a joke and sure enough, when we got there and asked, “why do men die before their wives?” And of course, the answer? “Because they want to.” Ah ha. Ah ha.
And then we met Slappy at the front, hugged and parted. You like how I found a picture where you absolutely cannot see Slappy? He’s directly behind my dad. I’d say they’re approximately the same height.
And then the ceremony got started for real. It was a fairly standard ceremony, though with 2 officiants. The Jewish part of the wedding was a little more regimented than the Christian side, but both were done beautifully. The only real surprise was when we went to do the rings, the Rabbi told us that we were to place it on our spouse’s right forefinger. What? I discreetly asked Slappy which finger was the forefinger because I’ve heard it called a pointer and an index finger, but never forefinger and we both wondered if he’d said 4th finger, you know, your RING finger. But no. So we played along until we were given permission to move the rings to the proper finger.
We also did a different take on the unity candle. Because our ceremony was outside the candle generally would not stay lit, so we did unity sand instead. We each poured a different color into a single container, and it is to represent the coming together of 2 families into 1. It’s a neat tradition and it worked beautifully.
After all the required elements and prayers, the Rabbi spent some time talking about our relationship with each other and this was the only part where I was nearly crying. Nearly I said. I never actually shed a tear, but I got a little teary eyed and of course, the photographer snapped a picture.
And shortly after this we kissed, he smashed a glass, and we left. I love this last picture and I had to crop out Slappy’s face, but if this doesn’t capture just how smitten I am with this guy, well, then I don’t know what will.
Next up- the reception!
So, when we last left off, it was 2:45pm the day of our wedding, I was totally dressed and ready to begin pictures, but had no flowers or florist on the scene yet.
As a little background, we got a recommendation for this florist from someone who used him last summer. She said he was personable and the flowers were great. We met with them 2 or 3 times before choosing them and we paid our balance in full in December (probably a mistake, in retrospect). Our centerpieces were provided by the place we got married at, so we were doing ceremony flowers only- a chupa (Jewish arch of flowers), aisle flowers and then bouquets, corsages and boutonnieres (which is really difficult to spell).
We were told well in advance that it would take 2 full hours to set up the chupa (after I show you pictures, you’ll understand why), so we spoke with them the day before the wedding when they informed us that they’d be there at 3. We politely explained that since the ceremony was STARTING at 5, that if it was going to take 2 hours to set up the chupa that perhaps they should come earlier and we agreed on 1:30.
So imagine our surprise when we were headed out for pictures at 2:45 with NO FLOWERS. I think I did a really good job of not panicking, especially considering the earlier noticed typo on the marriage license and the fact that what started out as a small drip in the bridal suite was quickly becoming the ceiling caving in (it’s no fun if things aren’t completely insane) and the floor flooding. But thankfully, sometime around 3:15, the florists showed up and we began the pictures. Here are just a few of the 400 pictures…
While we were taking pictures the florists were setting up the chupa. Apparently the 2 employees who came from the florist were a husband and wife, and according to our videographer they were incredibly unkind to each other and rather loud about it. The woman yelled at her husband, told him he’d never get it set up the way he was trying, told him that it was going to fall on his head and he’d die. Really really classy stuff. But, they did get it all set up. Only, they weren’t finished until 5:20, again ceremony to start at FIVE, when the woman poked her head in the bridal suite (also known as the room that once had a ceiling and dry carpet) and told me I owed them the balance. Again, I did a fairly good job of not murdering the woman who had forced all my guests to stay inside while they finished bickering, I mean, setting up the flowers, but I did convince her to call her boss who informed her that we had, in fact, paid for all our flowers. And, as it turns out, then some.
The flowers, particularly, the chupa were gorgeous. See for yourself
That said, those aisle flowers were not at all what we ordered and certainly were not 400+ dollars worth of aisle flowers. They were supposed to be big round bunches of flowers on wrought iron stands (the chupa was a wrought iron stand covered in flowers also, they were supposed to match). So we’ve spent the past week playing phone tag and finally got them to reimburse us for a small piece of the flowers we were supposed to, but did not get. And I know I’m complaining about this a bit, but know that for the most part, it was something that we didn’t let affect our wonderful big day and that we didn’t even deal with until after the honeymoon (much to the frustration of the florist I should add).
Next time (probably not until Monday), ceremony pictures, if I can find enough without Slappy’s face to share. We’ll see.
So the big day finally arrived.
I got up around 9, took a shower and was lying in bed reading on my computer while my mom filled out a form for me to get copies of my marriage license when she looks up, gasps and says, “would you want me to tell you if there’s a typo on your marriage license?” I honestly didn’t panic because really, how funny is that? Slappy and I did not get married, rather, he married some girl named Kathnyn. I hope she’s hot.
But seriously, how did we not notice that? We both swore an oath after proof-reading it saying that everything was correct. You know, minus the spelling of my first name. We decided just to deal with it later, if we had to do a civil ceremony when we got back from our honeymoon then so be it, we were still going to have our day (we actually just have to fill out some paperwork when the license gets sent to us, so it’ll be a while, but should get straightened out).
At around 10:45 I headed to Macy’s to the Clinique counter to get my make up done. We had done a practice run the day before (hence why I look somewhat put together in the picture from the dinner the night before) and they did an absolutely beautiful job. It looked natural but elegant and it stayed on all night.
From there, we headed to the golf course where we were getting married and my hairdresser was waiting and ready. Given the hair situation, we decided to go with a half up, half down curly thing to hide the shag in the back.
Once the hair was done, we had to secure the veil and get the bridesmaids dressed…
And then it was my turn…
Meanwhile, at his sister’s house, Slappy and his groomsmen were getting dressed. I can only show you 2 pictures, neither of which contain his head, and one of which contains the Mignon Faget cuff links that someone in Maui now has. But he looked sharp to say the least.
Once we were finally ready, the pictures were set to begin. Or were they? It was now after 3 (wedding to start at 5) and the florist had yet to show up, which is always a good sign.
To be continued…
The day after the rehearsal (Friday) Slappy and I parted ways for our final hurrahs with our friends/family. To say that our parties were a little different would be a vast understatement. I don’t have any pictures of the bachelor party (I probably wouldn’t be able to share them anyway), which is probably good for all of us, but I do have a few from my parties that I’ll share. I may come into more pictures later, but for now you’ll have to understand that I didn’t have a camera with me and that you’re going to be bombarded with so many pictures later you’ll probably be glad to have a light picture blog today. Okay, you won’t, but I tried.
Slappy was whisked off to Vegas Friday morning with his brother-in-law and older brother. Both of these men are great guys, but both of them are a little on the not-so-responsible side and I was scared for his life to put it mildly. Especially since his brother was driving and has been known to, well, smoke a lot of weed. And drink a lot of alcohol. And then drive. But anyway, they made it safely and as I understand it, here’s how most of the night went:
Drink, gamble, switch casinos. Drink, gamble, switch casinos. Drink, drink, gamble, drink. At some point during the night they made their way to a club (of a nature I don’t want to talk about) where the alcohol caught up with Slappy and he slept in the bathroom for a while, though triumphantly, never threw up. He then moved outside and fell asleep on the curb next to a trashcan. In Vegas. In the middle of the night.
Here’s where I wish I had pictures. Apparently, while sleeping there, many tourists came up and took pictures with a semi-passed out Slappy. Like just random strangers took a picture with the guy who was so drunk he was sleeping by a trashcan outside of a “club.” That’s my husband. But seriously, if you were in Vegas on June 5th or 6th and took a picture of a guy sleeping by a trashcan, please please email me. I’m willing to shell out some cash. No really, I’m totally serious.
Anyway, eventually Slappy got to bed, and the next morning he and his brothers drove back, each with a different variety of hangover (it was Slappy’s first hangover by the way, how cute is that?). His brother-in-law was tired and grumpy. His brother had the headache sensitive to light, and Slappy was fine until he ate, and then he spent the rest of the day feeling like he might hurl, which he says he did not. They all made it back alive, with all their fingers, toes and teeth. Which is good because they knew I would hunt them down and kill them if they had done anything else.
Now, onto the much tamer bachelorette party.
We got up at the ass-crack of dawn and went to Disneyland. My older (perfect) sister and younger (angstful teenage) sister drove me, and we met up with my sister-in-law (Slappy’s sister) and several of my friends from high school, college and various former jobs, to play for the day. My flower girl and ring bearer and their mother were also at the park that day, but we just briefly met up for lunch, it was an adult disney day, if that’s even possible.
The first stop was picking up the bridal mickey ears, because clearly I needed to be identified as the bride.
Then we rode rides, ate crap all day (including a provocative chocolate banana, which there are pictures of that I won’t be sharing) and eventually headed to Downtown Disney to the Rainforest Cafe for dinner. And lingerie. My friends all brought in different lingerie for the party, and so we sat around, had drinks, good food and opened up underwear in public. It was awesome. Unlike my other half, I did not wake up hung over (it most definitely would not have been my first. Or twenty-first…), though we did get home really late. Or maybe it wasn’t and I’m just old. Hard to say.
Saturday I went and got manicures/pedicures with my sisters, during which my younger (angstful teenage) sister broke up with her boyfriend over the phone, which made for a super-fun day. Then we saw the Sex and the City movie and then a really awkward dinner with my mom, dad, step-mom, step-dad and their respective families. All at one table. I was so tired I almost fell asleep in my plate.
(The restaurant made me a Baked Alaska with the world “congratulations” spelled out under it. It was really sweet except for the whole egg allergy, so my family ate it instead.)
And after our separate dinners, Slappy and I both went to bed, separately of course, in preparation for the next morning.
Next up, getting ready for the wedding pictures. Yep, I’m drawing this out, but it lets me re-live it a little bit and that’s super bueno. Not to mention, the more separate blogs, the more pictures you get to see. See, it’s really all about you guys and not at all about me relishing in not having to be creative or entertaining for a few days.
Okay, so before the wedding was the rehearsal and the affiliated dinner. I have pictures of the rehearsal itself, but like zero of them don’t contain Slappy (by the way, you’re going to be seeing a lot of pictures of just me, and it’s not because I’m crazy conceited, it’s because my husband does not wish to be pictured at all. Ever. It’s like he thinks if a prospective patient saw a picture of him being an idiot they might not want to send their kid to his practice. Paranoid.), so I can’t really show you much from that. Not to mention that like none of them are any good. But I do have pictures from the dinner, so here we go.
The rehearsal was slated to begin at 4. Of couse, 75% of those expected at the rehearsal weren’t there until about 15 minutes past then, and by the time we began the rehearsal at like 4:25, almost none of them were sober, including my husband who ordered a shot of tequila after dealing with his mother for 10 minutes. My father practiced walking me down the aisle with a bloody mary in the arm he wasn’t using to walk me. Classy.
Slappy’s sister made cards with directions for everyone to get to the dinner. To be honest, the place was like 5 minutes away and when I first saw the directions I commented that they were a little weird, but no one listened. Which was awesome like 10 minutes later when the same sister called to let us know that the directions were wrong and that we needed to track down my whole family who was getting lost in Orange County, so they could get back to the where they were supposed to be. It was fairly humorous because most of them had realized they were going the wrong direction, but they didn’t know how to get there, even though it was literally right next door to their hotel.
Meanwhile, Slappy and I realized that we had forgotten the only important presents for the rehearsal (the ones for the children who are too young to wait an extra day when they’ve been promised presents), so we had to go to his sister’s house, open a window, climb through it and take the presents. Yea, we definitely did not look like burglers or anything. But we did make it, albeit about 15 minutes later than everyone else, to our own party. I believe that’s called fashionably late. Or slightly rude. Not that our absence prevented anyone from starting with cocktail hour.
The restaurant was a small French place with cute little details all around. Our photographer was there (it’s a long story), which means I now have some pictures to share, honestly, mostly of scenery, but hey, it’s better than nothing, right?
(Had to remove the first picture- it had too much personal information that I didn’t notice until I read through it again!)
We enjoyed cocktail hour outside on the patio and then had a lovely dinner inside. There were several toasts made, my father cried, which was awesome and we just ate, drank and were merry. It ended up being a much nicer experience than I had anticipated and while it was exhausting to sit at a table with everyone’s parents, it actually ended up being easy and natural conversation.
I only have 2 pictures of me that I can share (read: that don’t contain Slappy), but I figured any were better than the staph pictures of a few weeks ago (let’s pretend like this is the first time you’ve seen me, these are much nicer). So enjoy.
Next up, the bachelor/bachelorette parties.
Okay, so still in Hawaii for another day and a half, but felt somewhat compelled to write something because the Father’s Day post was still staring at me (Slappy is still sleeping, for the record, so I’m not taking time away from him for this) and perhaps I have a small blogging/technology addiction. Whatever. I just wanted to give you a rough idea of what’s coming up both here and generally in my life, because after this beautiful Hawaiian vacation, things are going to hell in a specially woven handbasket.
We got our wedding pictures today (online) and eventually I’ll share a few with you. There will be at least a good couple of wedding blogs, many good honeymoon blogs (also with pictures) and then I’m sure several ranting blogs about what’s happening next.
After a few more days in Los Angeles, we will be driving back to good old NOLA. 3 days in the car, 800+ miles of mother freaking Texas, and then we will finally be home. Don’t get me wrong, this vacation and the time in California has been priceless, but I miss my home and friends and my cat and I’ll be glad to sleep in my own (I guess OUR own) bed. This plan puts us home sometime late next week depending upon how much of Texas we ignore the speed limit through.
Then on June 30th, I have a gynecologist appointment, a dentist appointment (3 cavities to be filled) and possibly a date with a shotgun. Seriously, that day is going to blow, but my new! job starts the next day and it needed to be done so I don’t give that great first impression of asking for time off. I also have an appointment with the boob doctor on like the 3rd because she couldn’t fit herself into doctor appointment Monday, but for inquiring minds, we’re in a holding pattern. That is, no matter what I do, it continues to hurt and leak and ooze. And I’ve now finished round 4 of ass kicking antibiotics, and seem to be infection-free, so that is certainly good news. I have a sneaking suspicion that when I go in there we’re going to later, rinse and repeat the same thing as last time. I’m guessing she’s going to re-silver nitrate it and I’m going to continue packing it until it decides to close. Which right now, at 2 months post surgery, seems like it might be never.
Anywho, on July 1st, I report to my new job at 9am. Yikes (p.s. NOLA peeps, how long will it take me to get from uptown to Kenner by 9 in the morning? Is there a better route than the interstate? Heeeeeelp me). I will get out sometime around 4ish (I get out more like 6ish MWF) and then have my first night of summer session Chemistry II from 7 to 10. Yea, let that soak in for a while. MTWTh from 7-10pm for 4 weeks. If I post something completely incomprehensible on July 25th, just assume I’ve consumed massive quantities of alcohol in celebration with being done with that class because I’m pretty sure it’s going to hand me my ass.
Once that’s over, I’ll have 2 weeks to study, fast and furious style for the GRE, take that, not suck at it, and then begin my regular fall classes, which include child psychology and microbiology, both online, but with a Tuesday 7-10 lab on campus. Things should settle down for me nicely once classes start, but I’ve got one mean month before that happens.
Some of you may be wondering if this was a long way of saying that I was taking a blogging break, and just so you know, you’d be wrong. All this really means is that you can expect a lot of blogs in capital letters about Texas, a lot of general pondering about how the hell to do Chemistry and I’m sure nice (and undoubtedly correct) usage of GRE vocabulary. If anything, I think this blog is about to get more smarterer.
Yep, we’re going to get our education on. But not until after we get our wedding and hooneymoon on first.