I feel like I'm supposed to write about this, but I don't know how

So. The wedding is over. The honeymoon is over (heh). The presents are all opened, if not put away, but the thank you note process has only just begun. I feel like I'm coming out of some fugue state, honestly, like I've been living some other life for the past two weeks. Part of that, I think, is that I didn't work for two weeks (OMG AWESOME) and ALSO we were in paradise, I'm pretty sure, for a week, where all we had to do was remember to eat. And eat we did! You know who makes good Mexican food? Mexico. True story. ASHLEY. I tried Huevos Rancheros and I died for real. I had no idea Mexican breakfast was so magical. When I took the first bite, I was like, "I can't wait to tell Ashley I tried Mexican breakfast." It's true. You can ask Joe. Anyway.

I want to say so much about our wedding but I don't even know where to start. If I started listing all of my favorite moments, I'd never stop writing. The celebration actually started the Wednesday before the wedding, when I left work that afternoon with a SO LONG, SUCKERS and headed home for a blissful two week reprieve. Half of the Collective got in on Thursday, and there were shenanigans, but I'm not going to talk about them now because I might be talking about them later. ANYWAY.

It sort of all feels like it was a million years ago, but it's only been about a week and a half. I spent all day getting ready for the wedding, but I wasn't stressed at all. Joe's coworkers told him that I was going to have at least one freakout before the wedding because, well, they don't know me at all. At one point, Joe offered to do something for me and I was all, "Yes!" and he was all, "Well, I wouldn't want you to have a freakout," and I was like, "So all I have to do to get you to do stuff I don't want to do is say I might freak out?" and he was like, "Um, no," and I was like, "Too late I didn't hear that part!" and that is a true story. But yeah, I was pretty calm all day. Without the aid of alcohol, I might add, aside from the small glass of champagne I drank with lunch.

Joe and I saw each other before the ceremony, since we did First Look pictures right away (while we looked as good as possible, heh) and wedding party pictures afterward. Then we all hung out in the back of the church together before the ceremony started, which was great, it was like we were waiting for guests to arrive for a party. Which...I guess we kind of were. I think I'm still processing the actual wedding ceremony, it was such a blur. I remember all the important stuff, of course, like the vows and the readings and the MUSIC* but I also remember the not-so-important things, like how damn hot it was in there and how much my damn feet hurt and OH MY GOD who knew bouquets of flowers could be so damn heavy?

I'm really struggling with how to write about all of this, you guys. I think I'm too close** or it's too soon or something...I don't know, but I'm having trouble not just being all, "OMG IT WAS SO FUN," because OMG IT WAS SO FUN. Except for the part where my dad made everyone cry, but that didn't last very long. Heh. We served trashy bar food for the "meal," which was really just appetizers, and I ate a plateful of jalapeno poppers and am not ashamed. Our cupcake display was...oh, you guys. Just...just here:



The people responsible for this magnificence, KT and Sam Jackson, have a bakery called Bombshell Bakeshop and, you know? They deserve their own post so I'll save all my gushing for later. Well, most of my gushing. I'm still sad that I only ate one cupcake that night, but it was the Choclatron, which looks like a Hostess cupcake and tastes ten times better. Sadly, there were none of those leftover.

Also! I think the mustaches were a hit:




As well as some of the games. I know Twister was put to good use:



As was the Scrabble game on our table, although unfortunately I don't have pictures of all the dirty words my friends spelled out on the board.

Best of all, I think, was the Hogwarts game that was sitting, of course, on The Collective table.



I think Heather! Anne! might be in love and one of my favorite moments was when someone (gee, I wonder who) brought Hogwarts out on the dance floor and everyone danced in a circle around it. I can't find a picture of this but I'm almost sure it happened. Granted, this was about the time that they closed the bar but that I remembered there was an entire bottle of wine on our table, and so obviously I grabbed it, took a swig directly from it, and proceeded to pass it around the dance floor. CLASSY.

The whole day was just so great, you guys, I get warm fuzzies whenever I think about it. There's only one thing that I would have changed. My grandma was unfortunately not able to make it, and she was most definitely missed. During the ceremony, I pretty easily held back any tears about to break through until the pastor mentioned my grandma, something none of us knew he was going to do, and I had to do, like, Lamaze breathing so I wouldn't start sobbing in front of everyone because DUDE.

I think my favorite part of the day, at least the reception, was just standing back at times and watching all of my favorite people have fun. And I'm so glad so many people took so many pictures (and that things like Flickr and Facebook exist), because it gave me a chance to see all the fun that I missed while I was having other fun.

Also, if your self-esteem is even close to the low side, I highly recommend having a wedding. It's like a rule that people have to say nice things to and about you ALL DAY LONG. Like, people told me I was pretty and funny the whole day, it was awesome. And it was really great for my ego. Or really bad for my ego. Probably the last one.

*which included music from Star Wars, Love Actually, Ben Folds, Jurassic Park, and Indiana Jones OBVIOUSLY
**Any takers for a guest post? Anyone? Hello?

the situation is serious

I was going to try and express my feelings on getting married through the power of dance, but since I'm a horrible dancer, I thought I'd let Turk do it for me:



Have a good week, Internets!

still breezy

Firstlies, I would like to say thank you to everyone who said nice things about Joe and I (or to Joe and I) last week on The Collective. AND I would like to say thank you to whoever is responsible for the internet and also blogging because my life would be so, so completely different without both of those things. Like, stupid different, not good different.

I started blogging in 2003 (on Diaryland...yes, Diaryland) and if you had told me then that A) I'd be getting married in 7 years and B) I would be marrying someone I met on the internet and C) I would meet some of my BFFs on said internet AND they'd be coming to my wedding, I would have told you to back up your crazy face before I punched it. Which is rude, yes, but I am much more polite now than I used to be.

I have to admit, I feel ahead of the game when it comes to the whole "meeting people on the internet" thing. I became good friends with someone on the internet in high school, because of a TV show of all things, and we met each other back when everyone thought it was dangerous to meet anyone you met online, on account of YOU WILL GET MURDERED IN THE FACE WITH A SHARP, SHARP AXE. Well. I did not get murdered in the face, obviously, which is maybe why I had no worries whatsoever the first time I met The Collective on that Thanksgiving of miracles a few years ago.

I think my attitude toward meeting internet peoples is pretty cavalier. I never worried (much) about being axe murdered, as much as I joked about it. I even took my life into my own hands and tried internet dating, multiple times, in different mediums, but I think I can safely say at this point (after much reflection, believe you me) that my heart wasn't really in it until I met Joe.

We're getting married on Saturday and I'm trying my best to concentrate on the task(s) at hand, all work-related, until Wednesday at 5 when I leave work and don't come back for a week and a half. I'm almost as excited about that as I am to marry Joe. Almost. Mostly I'm just glad he didn't bring an axe on our first date, otherwise I think my life would look very different right now.

If Harry Potter had come out when I was 12 instead of 16, I would be way more obsessed. That's a lot of obsessed, but this is not about Harry Potter.

A few weeks ago, someone referenced Flowers in the Attic on their blog, and this led me down a rabbit hole. First I had to look up Flowers in the Attic on Wackopedia, because I'd forgotten some of the effed up details, which led me to looking up all the other VC Andrews books I read as a child (sidenote: VC Andrews should not be read by children), which led me to looking up OTHER books I read as a child, which led me to realize that just because I was an advanced reader for my age, that did not mean I should have been reading a lot of the books I read. Second grade is far too young to read Are You There, God, It's Me, Margaret.

I devoured books (mmm, books) as a child, many times in one sitting, and I read my favorites over and over. Not much has changed, except I no longer usually have time to read an entire book in one sitting because being an adult comes with responsibilities, which is STUPID AND I HATE IT. Anyway. I made up a list of the books I read over and over, what I remember about each one, and other comments that are probably full of exclamation marks and all caps.

The previously mentioned Flowers in the Attic: OK. This might be the most fucked up book I've ever read. There are four kids, all blond and beautiful. The two older children are teenagers, I think, and the two younger are twins (one boy, one girl). Their father dies and because their mother is a waste of space, she takes the kids to her childhood home so she can beg her father for money. The kids are locked in an attic by their mother and grandmother because they are Satan's spawn (according to the grandmother) because GET THIS, the kids' parents were uncle and niece (I think). Although, in a later book it's revealed that they're really half brother and sister. Gross. Anyway, the grandmother is a total see you next tuesday and is really mean to them. At one point, she pours tar in the older girl's hair while she's sleeping and I think whips her with a belt. Also, the mother feeds the kids arsenic because her father's will says she'll only get any money if she didn't have any two headed incest children. Also, the older brother rapes the older sister. I KNOW.

I don't know why I was allowed to read any of these books. And I read almost all of them. There is a TON of incest in every single one, WHAT THE HELL?

IT, by Stephen King: Yes. I read this book as a child. I can't remember how old I was, but it might have been around the time I wrote The Evil Summer, which explains a lot, yes? Yes. This book is about...shit, you guys, it's so messed up. There's a scary clown, a big ass spider, dead kids, IT IS NOT FOR CHILDREN. But I specifically remember my dad giving me this book to read. When I was like 12.

The Secret Circle: This is the first trilogy I read by LJ Smith, and probably my favorite. Hokay, so. What happens is, this girl named Cassie moves to Salem or something. I think she goes to live with her grandparents, maybe? I don't remember why, but her mom never told her who her father was, so that's a big mystery. Somehow she ends up BFF with this girl named Diana, who is part of a secret witch coven (I know) and they recruit Cassie. Cassie is totally in love with Diana's boyfriend Adam (I am making up names at this point) and at one point they make out and it's a big thing. The whole coven gets in a big fight, and there's this dark evil hovering over everything in the form of, some dark dude. The dark dude ends up being Cassie's real father and he's evil and wants her to join the dark side and then they have this big fight and he cuts of her hand, oh wait, that's something else. My point is, I don't remember anything else about these.

Dark Visions: This was my second favorite of the trilogies and it was about all these psychic kids. They go to some institute, which turns out to be evil (of course), and they run away and there are psychic shenanigans. I feel like there was some big deal with crystals...like light or dark crystals? And people linking minds? And a love triangle! Like Jack and Kate and Sawyer, but not lame! Except, it was totally lame. I don't remember much about this one. Sorry. Or you're welcome.

The Forbidden Game: I remember even less about this trilogy, but I think the protagonist's name was Jenny (score!) and her friends got her a game (a FORBIDDEN game) for her birthday or something. They all play it and get sucked into it, sort of like Jumangi. There's some guy in the game who keeps fucking with them and he's in love with Jenny. I think his name is Julian and in my mind, he looks like Spike from Buffy, so...hot. I have no idea what else happens or how it ends. Sorry. Or you're welcome.

I was going to write more but now I'm tired. If I find any cheap copies of these books or any other authors (RL Stine! Christopher Pike! Judy Blume! Caroline Cooney! Lois Lowry! Ann M Martin!) I read a lot as a kid, I might do some reviews. Or I might forget I ever said that. Whatever.

speaking of Tool Time...

Today I want to talk to you guys about something very important. Something that was once very, very close to my heart.

Today I want to talk to you about...Jonathan Taylor Thomas. OH, YEEAAAAAAAAAAH. JTT 4 EVA!!1!!1!

Ahem. Jonathan Taylor Thomas was my first love, the personification of all of my tween dreams, and it's only fitting that I give him a proper send off as I will soon pledge my heart to another blah blah blah.

I fell in love with Jonathan Taylor Thomas in the early 90s, when he appeared on a little show called Home Improvement. MAYBE YOU'VE HEARD OF IT. (I don't know.) Anyway. He was perfect, in my young eyes, and I knew that if only I could meet him, we'd fall deeply in (12-year-old) love because...um, we were almost the same age? I don't know, I'm pretty sure that when I was 12, I thought that was all it took. Same age.

Whatever, the case, I was in love and obsessed. Perhaps my obsessions with The X-Files and Mr. Darcy and Pam and Jim should have come as no surprise given my love for all things JTT.

When I was in sixth grade, my bedroom walls were PLASTERED with posters and pictures from such fine periodicals as: Tiger Beat and BOP and BBOP or whatever the hell they were all called. I used to buy them all whenever my mom would take me with her to Kroger. I'd stand in the magazine aisle, digging through them, searching for the best one. They were always on the bottom shelf, lined up together, tween boy faces gazing out at me between the coloring books and the crossword puzzles.

I'd flip through each magazine unless JTT was on the cover, then (OBVIOUSLY) I'd buy that one. He usually was on the cover, right next to Jonathan Brandis (RIP), Andrew Keegan (meh), and Rider Strong (double meh). Sometimes, OH SOMETIMES, the magazine would have a giant, fold-out poster inside of it. That was like finding a pot of gold and digging through that pot of gold to find, like, CHOCOLATE-COVERED GOLD.

My love did not stop at magazines, oh no. I would tape episodes of Home Improvement, new and syndicated, so I could watch the best Randy moments (heh) over and over. My favorite was the episode where there was something wrong with Randy (like, medically) because JTT was all, "I AM AN AC-TOR," in it and I was like, whoa, dreeeeamy. Randy was always my favorite of the Taylor brothers because Brad was, well, a moron and the little one was too young for me and also kind of weird. But Randy was the smart brother and so I was IN. LOVE.

I watched The Lion King over and over because JTT was the voice of Young Simba. I saw Man of the House in the theater and whenever we'd go to Blockbuster, I'd beg my parents to rent it. IT'S SO BAD, YOU GUYS. But I loved it, mostly because of JTT but also because they were in Indian Guides in the movie and I was totally an Indian Princess when I was a kid (Jennie + JTT = MFEO). My name was Little Star. I was in the Fox tribe. I...I'm going to stop talking now.

I don't know what happened to JTT or his career (other than a random episode of Veronica Mars) but my love has obviously faded. (LUCKY FOR JOE.) But I have to admit, I will 4-EVA have a Tiger Beat fold-out poster hanging deep in my heart for Randy Taylor.

You can't say you're breezy, that totally negates the breezy!

DUDES. You guys. It's September. That means I am getting married this month, which makes me happier than Heather Anne Hogan with a hoverboard, if that's possible, and I'm not sure it is.

(Speaking of Heather Anne Hogan, she's blogging again. I know. I KNOW. I peed my pants, too.)

So, anyway, it's September 1st, which means I'm getting married in 17 days, which is AWESOME because it means I can stop talking and thinking about wedding stuff soon. HELL YES. Soon I will be able to concentrate on more important things, like Max. And Joe, I suppose. Heh.

This morning as I flipped the calendar to September, I asked Joe at what point I was supposed to start getting really stressed.

"Now?" he said and I laughed because, you guys, I'M TOTALLY BREEZY. I mean, I'm excited, of course, but I cannot think of one detail that I'm really worried about because you know what? It's out of my hands. I can't control the weather. I can't control the airlines. I'm not worried about whether the napkins perfectly match the...whatever, I don't even know what they need to match. I'm not worried about the flowers or the centerpieces or whether the church looks perfect or even whether I look perfect. SUCK IT, WEDDING INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX.

Sure, there are some things I can control, but I'm not worried about them. My dress is fine, my hair appointment is booked, and all of our stuff is gathered. Stuff like board games and magnetized Scrabble tiles and fake mustaches and GUESS WHAT BITCHES? We have all of it. I don't want to brag, but we are so ready. I'm sure that will come back and bite me in the ass at some point, but I don't care. TAKE A BIG BITE, UNIVERSE, because in three weeks I will be somewhere tropical, sipping a cocktail, and laughing with MY HUSBAND JOE over a poop joke one of us made.

Last night, I started half-assing the placecards because if there's anything to half-ass, it's the placecards. We bought some at Target and I'm writing all the names because, I don't know, I like handwriting stuff? Does that make sense? Sometimes I miss being in school because I don't get to take notes much anymore (not even in meetings because nothing important ever happens in meetings where I work) and I LOVE taking notes. I should start handwriting my first drafts of everything but that sounds like a lot of work so I probably won't do it.

Anyway, let's talk about more interesting things LIKE MAX. He's still being SO GOOD even though he really doesn't like going in his cage. But that could be because we have to put this inflatable donut thing around his neck so he doesn't lick his ball-removal stitches all day long while we're not home. I'm sure he'll get over it. Right? Please say yes.

He and Phoebe are still getting along, if you can call it that. She is a tiny bit braver around him, meaning she waits 10 seconds to run away from him instead of 5 seconds, and he still just walks right by her without noticing her. Maybe he is cat blind. Or maybe Phoebe knows how to invisible herself! PHOEBE IS A SUPERHERO. I wonder if she has a cape and if so, if she'd let me borrow it. Or if it would even fit. She has a tiny neck. Tinier than Max's and I know my neck is just slightly bigger than Max's because I tried on his e-collar and it didn't fit but only barely.

Um. Yeah. Maybe the wedding planning is good for me, because without it, I apparently have way too much time on my hands.