Love is Love


26 days. In 26 days I marry the love of my life and perfect match. Right now I’m a bundle of giddiness, excitement, anxiety (putting on a wedding is an insane undertaking), and warm fuzzies. This experience from moment one has truly been magical. Love does that to you. It touches every aspect of your life and makes it better. Way better. The funny thing about true love is that it catches you by surprise. You’re not looking for it and then bam, slap to the face. It’s a real wakeup call. It’s like someone comes along and shakes the cobwebs from your mind and shows you what life should really be like.

Not to discount previous relationships, but this is just, different. It’s like Digiorno compared to your favorite pizza spot (you can tell I’m writing this at lunch). Both are good. Both will get you through, satisfy your need for sustenance. But only one is what you truly wanted. Only one will you rave about to all of your friends. And the funny thing is if you’d only eaten frozen pizza all your life, you’d believe that was the be all and end all of pizza. Then one night your friends take you to Antico and you think, “Okay, this is pizza! I’m not sure what that other stuff was. This is the real deal. I want to eat this for the rest of my life.” Enough with the pizza. I think I’ve made my point. I’m in love.

Here’s the crazy part, I’d written off marriage. I’m not sure I even believed in it. In my mind it added nothing to the equation; it didn’t change the commitment. I was the one spouting off rhetoric about it being an outdated practice and a broken system. Then true love happened. And suddenly it was all I could think about. I wanted this man in my life forever. I wanted others to realize how serious we are. I wanted my love to be certified! And here’s where a nagging thought entered my mind. It started out as a passing, “ugh, jeez, that really sucks” and grew into moments of tearing up and getting seriously pissed. My thought was this, my best friend can’t experience this; at least not in the way I can. And guess what, he’s there. He’s right there with me on this wonderfully amazing emotional roller coaster. He loves his boyfriend. I mean loves, like head tilts and shrugs, like aches with distance, like the completion of a puzzle. He’s in it. He’s found the one. This guy, he’s amazing. He makes my best friend so happy. He levels out his anxiety. He makes him listen to 90s rock (awesome). He is the one my best friend deserves. Too bad they live in Tennessee. Too bad when that magic moment arrives they can’t even choose to get married where they’ve built their lives. Too bad this, the most important moment of their lives, can’t be spent at home.

Imagine that, because I have, over and over again over the last few months. I’ve always been pro-equality. Love is love. Everyone deserves to feel this way. Everyone deserves to have their love recognized, accepted, validated. Because yes, their love is not minimized in their minds by this bigotry, but it deserves to be celebrated! Brett deserves to haggle with caterers and florists. He deserves to pick colors and handle seating arrangements. He deserves his moment of bliss that launches a lifetime of happiness. And he deserves to do it wherever he damn well pleases WITH a legally recognized marriage license in hand.

Brett will be there by my side in 26 days when I take my stroll down the aisle. Bradley will be there looking on as his future husband likely cries while he watches his best friend get married. I want nothing more than to blubber on his special day. It sucks that that will mean traveling to one of the 19 states that have finally come to their senses. Now that’s some serious food for thought.


Marriage is Work & Other Wedding Faux Pas

It’s been just over a month since my wedding day.  I’m still in the process of changing my name (what a royal pain), getting thank-you notes out, and  figuring out how to hang framed pictures in my house without making it look like a shrine to me and Matt.  It’s crazy how quickly time speeds by.  Months spent planning gone in a blink and soon I’ll be celebrating my 1st anniversary and then my 50th.

I thought of spending this post in yet another moment of awe at just how amazing my wedding was, you know, pics and gushings and hopes of expectant brides just wishing they could get it that right.  Who knows, maybe I’ll still do that later.  But I need to come up for air and toss the proverbial bouquet.  What better way to send this precious moment off than by helping all mankind; a PSA of sorts to pave a brighter future for all those brides to be.

RSVP?  What’s that?

Color me shocked and amazed that I travel in a circle of folks who don’t do well with deadlines.  I get it, the cut-off date slipped your mind.    I can certainly understand that you may not have a stamp or want to fill in my address, so I did that for you.  Or maybe making that little check mark next to yes or no was just, well, too much.  So I am forced to hunt you down and demand an answer.  It’s starting to feel like maybe you don’t give a shit and my ego is awfully bruised.

Confession time, I’ve been this person.  Once.  And guess what, never again.  I now fully understand that RSVP isn’t a request, it’s a demand.  Don’t let the fancy French please fool you, those cards hold the entire balance of the wedding on their paper sharp edges.  Try dealing with vendors and setting a final budget when you don’t know if 50 or 250 people are showing up.

Your Yes = $.

You know how you said “OMG, can’t wait.  Super excited my plus one and I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”?  Well that and the yes you checked caused me to put you in the attending column complete with your drinks and food and location overage costs and cake and….expectations of seeing your smiling faces.  I get that emergencies happen.  Sickness, car issues, and apparently  work issues plagued the universe that fateful weekend of the 14th.  But what of the folks who just didn’t bother to show or text or send a carrier pigeon offering apology for their no show?  That I don’t get.

Lesson- If you say yes, show up.  Or send some offering to excuse your absence.  Beer never hurts.  Neither does a hand written letter.  If you can’t come, say no.  It’s totally cool.  But you should still send beer.

Marriage is Work.

So the first two are just some shocking revelations that, had I really thought ahead about the nature of people, really aren’t so surprising.  I rant; I feel better; I pay the credit card off;  I move on.  This last one completely blind sided me.

“Phew! Let me just say, it’s a lot of hard work and a great deal of compromise!”

“I am SO happy you couldn’t be happier.  I felt so happy the first morning I woke up after being married to [name withheld]….things change.  LOL  Just kidding, but not really…”

“Marriage is hard.  Like really, really hard.  Sometimes you’ll wonder what the hell you were thinking.”

“Good luck.  You’ll need it.”

These are things people actually said to me either in their congratulatory messages or upon hearing I got married.  For real.  I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard, “marriage is work”.

First, how is this a message you think a newly wed wants to hear?  Unless you’re that married couple of 50 years from whom I’m soliciting a nugget of advice, a congrats, so happy for you, will suffice.  I mean, imagine this in any other circumstance:

New baby:  “Oh, he’s so cute.  Too bad you’ll end up hating him for large stretches of time.  Enjoy the next 18 years.  Congrats.”  or “Get ready for shitty diapers, puke, and constant crying.  Babies pretty much suck.  So happy for you.”

Birthday:  “You’re one step closer to the grave.  Seriously, you look like crap.  When did you get so many wrinkles.  Oh well, it only gets worse.  Enjoy your special day.”

New Home:  “Lovely place.  Hopefully you don’t lose your job and go into foreclosure.  Can I get a tour?”

New Job:  “Good luck.  You know most people don’t stick around a company for more than a few years and tons probably get fired in their first 90 days.  Fingers crossed that doesn’t happen to you.”

Also, no shit Sherlock.  Life is work.  Actually, I think it is more accurate to say marriage, life, a career or anything worth having takes EFFORT.  It’s a big distinction.  Work implies forced behavior; something you do begrudgingly.  Something you really shouldn’t have to do, but, well I guess since the universe decided you should be born not into royalty but a mere commoner, you’ll just have to deal with.  Pick the right career, hobby, partner–something/someone who truly matters in your life for more than a fleeting moment–and suddenly you may actually want to make an effort.  And that effort makes all the difference.  More effort may yield you less work.  Just a thought…

OK- dear readers, my lunch is finished and my rant is through.  Hopefully you’ve all learned something today.  Because knowledge really is power.  Feel free to share this PSA with those in your circle who are less endowed in the manners’ department.  You may just save someone some grief…or at least keep a friend from being the subject of blogging fodder from a small time writer wanna be.


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Listening to:

We Were Promised Jetpacks – Unravelling

I’m Shakin’

In a little over 5 months, I get to marry my best friend.  I honestly don’t think it’s possible for me to be any happier.  Each day just seems nearly too good to be true.

He and I have history.  We met in college.  We’ve both admitted that while love at first sight may not exist, we both caught each others eye and that was that.  I made any excuse I could to be around him.  He made me smile.  He also had a girlfriend and I was coupled with the devil incarnate.  So we left it at a friendship, though we both knew we should be together.

And then life happened.  He moved away for grad school and got married.  I finished grad school and started on the path to my current career.  There were other boyfriends.  Good boyfriends, good people.  But no one ever really fit me.

I met him out with my current boyfriend at the time once.  He brought his wife.  It was awkward.  We sat across the table from each other, just two old friends.  Two old friends who never wanted to be friends.

More time went by.  And roughly a decade after the day we met a fateful “how are you doing text” started a communication that’s never ceased.  His marriage was over and I was flying solo.  It was finally our time.  And we both seized the opportunity.  We haven’t looked back since.

Well, that’s not entirely true.  We look back all the time!  It’s fun to reminisce about how truly clueless we were back in the day.  It’s crazy that we missed each other.  It’s stupid that neither of us said the right words at the right time.

But as with many things in life, timing is everything.  I don’t for a minute regret us taking the paths we did.  Yes, no one desires divorce or a failed relationship, but they teach us.  The years taught us both how to be better partners.  They taught us what we wanted; what makes us happy.  We grew up and learned about ourselves.  So now that we’re finally together, we can really appreciate how truly special our relationship is.



So, all that as back story for this week’s 100 Word Song inspired by Jack White’s “I’m Shakin”.  It’s about my first road trip to see him  after our reconnection.  Go visit my friend Lance over at My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog and share your 100 word story!
245 miles.

That gives me roughly 4 hours  to compose myself.  Shit, I’m nervous. It’s a good nervous though, the kind that leaves you antsy and causes your heart to randomly flutter.

115 miles.

Ok, only an hour and a half to go. Just a quick stop to apply deodorant. Jesus, why am I sweating so badly?  Maybe I’ll just roll down the window a bit, get some air in here.

2 miles.

There’s the exit. This is it. The moment of truth.

Parking lot.

There he is. Smiles, flutters, roller-coaster tummy.  I’m shakin’. The car door opens.

Hi there.




Stay positive & love your life!


Five for Friday: 5 Observations From My First Week Post Engagement

This past week has been a whirlwind of lessons.  You see, I’m really not “that girl”, you know the one who has her entire wedding planned out.  The one who has an entire scrapbook of fabrics and photos and ribbons that she’s been carrying around her entire life.  The one who I would probably have a very hard time being friends with (see here).  So this whole “what do I want in a wedding” thing has completely caught me offguard.  I have a feeling there are many, many lessons to be learned over the next several months, but here are 5 observations made in the last 5 days alone.

5:  I hate the word fiance’. 

Ugh, I just don’t like the sound of it.  I don’t like the way people say it.  I don’t like its similarity to the word finance.  Finance, as in what people do to pay for absurdly expensive weddings.  It just stinks of pretentiousness and I reserve my pretentiousness to music snobbery.

4:  Wedding cakes are hideous.

What the hell is up with all the ribbons and flowers exploding out everywhere?  Why are they massive?  I must have scrolled through at least 300 cakes on Pinterest and found three that I could potentially work with to craft a normal dessert item with which to celebrate my nuptials.  Speaking of Pinterest…..


What in the name of all things holy is this?!

3:  Pinterest!

Oh Pinterst you may just be the greatest thing ever invented.  How do wedding planners still have jobs?

2:  People spend wayyyyyy too much on weddings.

Obviously this is just my opinion, so if blowing $25K+ for a few hours of fun is what floats your boat, more power to ya.  I just can’t fathom it.  $25K would pay for a lot of things.  Let’s see, off the top of my head:  my student loans, a new car, a nice chunk of my mortgage, a killer vacation or 12, a nice infusion into my retirement fund…..


I can’t….

1:  I kinda am one of “those girls”.

Maybe it’s not on some insane bridezilla level, but I have to be honest, I’m loving everything about this!  I love picking colors and thinking about flowers.  I love imagining my friends and family gathered in celebration.  And more than anything, I love that I get to spend the rest of my life with my very best friend.  Let me stop typing before I completely girl out and start crying.  Someone pass me a tissue please.

Stay positive and love your life!



Listening to:  311 – Still Dreaming