I’m a weirdo, what can I say?

16 May

Doesn’t everyone have their odd habit or two?  Isn’t that what makes us unique… or is that just what I tell myself!  HA.  I think we should all embrace the super bizarre things we do, laugh at them, and then continue doing them. I know I will.

In no particular order:

I have been known, on more than one occasion, to eat chocolate candies WHILST working out.  Immediate rewards for burning calories or just plain stupid?  You decide.

I prefer to eat all dairy products with a plastic spoon, this includes but is not limited to yogurt and ice cream.  In fact, I’ll go a step weirder and say I prefer plasticware to silverware.  Although I will be registering for latter, I secretly wish the former was more acceptable.  Sidenote: The biggest pet peeve of the Scottish is when my teeth clink on the silverware while I’m eating.  The sound doesn’t bother me, but since I prefer plastic anyway we are thinking we might start keeping two sets of cutlery in the house.

My least favorite thing about a big city is the traffic and lack of parking!  Parking is really brutal in some parts of Chicago and one of my friends likes to laugh at me because if I am driving to a party, or some type social event and I can’t find anywhere to park, I’ll just drive home.  I’ll get all the way there, circle for about 15-20 minutes, and then give up and drive all the way back home.  A true Chicagoan always finds parking, and I’m getting better at it these days, but there was a time when I was new to the city and would miss out on things because I couldn’t find a place to leave my car!

Sometimes I daydream so long in the shower that I’m completely behind schedule and find myself racing around the house to finish getting ready.  I love a scalding hot shower and it’s one of my favorite places to daydream and imagine.

My obsessive compulsive tendencies make it so I have trouble skimming or skipping parts when reading ANYTHING.  I have to read every blog entry in my reader.  If I start a magazine, I must look at every article.  If there’s a forward, preview, prologue, appendix, epilogue, etc to a book, i will always read them.  Sometimes I wish I could skip things, but my brain won’t let me!!

I’d rather clean a toilet than cook a 5 course meal any day of the week!

I hate bugs, sleeping outside, dirt, and eating at a picnic table but I LOVE camping with my family every summer!  My Dad grew up camping and my parents have taken us camping every year since I was young, it was definitely the most cost-effective way to vacation in a family of five and a great way to explore the United States.  This self-proclaimed girly-girl has on more than one occasion walked almost a mile to the bathroom, gone hiking through rough terrain and has spent days without doing her hair or make-up.  Going camping is one of my favorite times of the year, believe it or not.

My tent.  Just kidding, I don’t sleep in tents!  We have a pop-up tent camper that allows me to sleep off the ground, a princess is a princess after all.

This is more like it!

I tend to sob-cry when watching TV.  It doesn’t matter which show, it could be Friends or Undercover Boss, but something will spark my emotional side and suddenly I’m in tears.  The best time EVER was when I saw the movie UP (for the second time I might add) at home with the Scottish.  I started sob-crying during the opening scene with Mr. Fredricksen and his wife.  At first, the Scottish thought I was in pain or hurt, he was worried that I was convulsing in such a way that was not normal, but nope, that’s just how I sob-cry.  After he realized I was OK, he starts laughing hysterically at the absurdity of the situation.  Then I start laughing and soon I’m sob-crying-laughing and there is just snot everywhere.  That’s love.

Quote: “Is it weird in here or is it just me?”  Stephen Wright

Sorry for the lack of frequency on Drama Happens but managing two blogs is quite time-consuming (I think I need an intern!) and the wedding blog is getting much more of my time right now!  But don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll be more weird stories to come!  🙂  Til then!

Here’s hoping my babies come out with a Scottish accent

9 May

This is a relationship blog and there is a relationship I have yet to discuss on here that I’d like to talk about. I would like to discuss my feelings about children, specifically my own. Please do not freak out, no one is pregnant. Well no one is pregnant who is writing this blog. But someone (me) is planning a wedding and starting to nest, and feeling excited about the notion of having little ones in her future. When I look lovingly into the Scottish’s eyes and tell him I want to have his babies, the fear in the room is almost palpable. He gazes back at me and in an unsteady voice, says, “Not for a long time hunny.” OH NO. IT’S LIKE THE PROPOSAL ALL OVER AGAIN. This wonderful man I’m going to marry moves slower than any human being I know. He doesn’t do anything quick or rash, all moves must be calculated and planned years and years in advance. Meanwhile my biological clock ticking and the noise is really starting to bug me. My clock sort of revved up after getting engaged and while it starts off trying to be nice, it usually ends up yelling at me. My clock: “Umm excuse me, umm, your body was made to procreate, and umm, well, all of us here in this pale vessel would like to say, GIVE US SOMETHING TO NURTURE *GOD DAMNIT!” Of course it’s fitting that my biological clock is overly dramatic like myself.

 

 

I’ve decided the best way to explain my feelings on having children would be to fill out the Who, What, Where, Why, When and How Many of it all. Sort of like an English paper outline. Enjoy!

So, WHO? Well, if possible I’d like to have a Scottish-American kid, with an ideal mix being 60% Scottish and 40% American, because those Scots just eat whatever they want and don’t worry about a thing, plus they are the most laid-back culture I’ve ever been around! As long as the kiddos get some of my passion, drive, and at least one artistic quality, we’ll be all set. If for some reason I need to adopt (ps I think adoption is awesome) then I think an African-American boy and an Asian girl would be adorable.

WHAT? Human children please.

WHERE? This is a great question. I would like to have my kids live in Chicago because it’s kind of my favorite city of all time, but I would also like to be near my family when I raise my kids. So either Chicago or Minnesota… at this point I’m not sure the Scottish could fathom moving to an even colder climate, but the lure of free babysitting has to hold some weight, right? Ultimately, I will have my kids in the Midwest. Ain’t no better place for kid-raising the way I see it.

WHY? This is an even better question. Besides just the biological clock, I most simply want a family of my very own to dream, love, and grow with. I love my family, immediate, extended, and honorary, and I want to create my own little unit with new special traditions and memories. I want to put more awesome people in the world. People who will respect the earth and their fellow human beings, people who will not discriminate based on sexuality or race or physical condition, and people who add to the quality of life for those around them. So, you know, just to have a little mini-me walking around… just kidding, I’d kill her.

WHEN? Let’s just say if I found out I was preggers by our first anniversary in March 2014, I would not be upset! Although, I have to say, it’d be nice to have more than a year to worry about Number One (me), and as a nanny I get an insight into the raising of kids and since it really is life-changing there is no need to rush. On the other hand, I’m super excited and not sure how long I’ll be able to wait! I’m hoping the Scottish isn’t having a heart attack on the train right now as he reads this on his way home. His ideal is like years from now after we have a house and enough money saved up to send them all to Harvard. AS IF!

HOW MANY? I say 2-3 and the Scottish says 1-2. But I want to have two girls (sisterly love is the best and the worst all at the same time) and I also want to have a little boy, so three kids would be nice. But a family of four sits together so well on theme park rides and airplanes, plus one more kid = one more flight to Scotland, and we know those trips are gonna add up!! But on the other hand, I come from a family of three, and so does my mom

Two things I know for sure, I don’t want to have an only child, and I don’t want to have three boys. If we have two boys and start trying for a third, I’ll probably spend our life savings flying around the globe looking for the best method to ensure our next kid is a female. Cause at that point I’ll be the desperate mother of two boys and I’ll most likely already have a reputation of being crazy.

Overall, I will consider us blessed no matter what the gender, number, or Scottish-American mix our children have, but frankly that doesn’t make for a very fun blog post.  For the ladies out there, when did your clock start ticking?!?!?!  Or maybe it hasn’t, that’s OK too!!

* I do not take the Lord’s name in vain when speaking but I take a lot of liberties when writing and it just sounded better to say GOD DAMNIT than GOSH DAMNIT. Luckily for me, God has a sense of humor.

Quote: “There are no seven wonders of the world in the eyes of a child. There are seven million.” Walt Streightiff

The dreaded “M” word or Fight #1 about Money

5 May

Friday morning I groggily walked into the bathroom to start my shower, and I heard this buzzing sound. Seriously? We have had the same GIANT fly circling in our bedroom/bathroom area for about three days now. To quote one of my all-time favorite movies, Austin Powers, when his deadly weapons continually fail to kill one of Dr. Evil’s assassins, he screams in confusion, “Why won’t you die?”  This is how I feel about the fly. The fly isn’t smart enough to find the exit and with a garden apartment, we don’t ever open the windows, so he’s stuck in our house until he dies. And I’m thinking, What if he’s starving to death? I feel bad, we should get a fly swatter and kill him to put him out of his misery. Oh no, what if he dies on our bed!  That would be terrible. I wonder if he is frightened because he is so trapped. He’s a fly so maybe he doesn’t know he’s going to die. Poor little, ugly fly.

As my heart begins to race in worry over the feelings concerning a FLY, it hits me, I worry about the world’s STUPIDEST things. It’s true.  And embarrassing.

But since I am an equal-opportunity worrier,  I also worry about important things.  I worry about flies and I worry about MONEY.

photo courtesy of wmpu.org

I mean, come on, who doesn’t?

The Scottish and I went to a Financial Planning small group through our church this past week and boy did it spark some conversation! Remind me to yell at thank my friends for inviting us. 🙂  We spent the entire car ride home plus another hour and 15 minutes fighting about priorities and budgets.  Hey, at least it got us talking, right?  The Scottish and I communicate really well and have discussed money in the past, even sharing personal things such as the activity of our bank accounts, but now that it is officially (almost) time for us to put our funds together and to voice our financial goals, it seems we are struggling to get on the same page.

We both agree on simple ideas like, savings = good, and debt = bad.  But there’s more to it than that!  Plus, while I enter our marriage with a condo and a car, I also bring in a lot of student debt.   The Scottish is the one who has admirable amounts of money in savings, but can’t get a credit card with more than a 300 dollar limit because of a lack of credit history in this country.  Our difference of opinion stems from the fact that I was brought up sort of “you can’t take it with you” style/spend the money on people you love while you have it, and the Scottish was taught to think long-term, to be ready for any crisis, and to be practical.  As this financial leader guy told us in the video we watched during small group, “there’s always the free spirit and the nerd.”  Can you guess who is who??

I can’t get into any more details, you know, money is kind of private, but I will say, we have the same goals and thoughts about money but we want to take different routes to get there.  While our conversation the other night was heated, it was also productive.  We might have fought the night of the small group but we both calmed down and by the next night we were able to sit down and make a tentative monthly budget.  And there wasn’t any fighting!  This small group brought up tons of great ideas, cash flow plans, a will, retirement, college funds, emergency funds, snowballing your debt, etc.  I think we just got overwhelmed at first, because, hello, THERE IS A LOT TO DO.  Not to mention, tack on a name change, a landlord situation, and a green-card to our list of To-DO’s.

Naturally, that first night I really wanted to go to bed mad at my Scottish.  The entire disagreement was filled with snappy comments, rude glares, and a bit of shouting.  Finally, too exhausted to talk anymore, I went to bed.  But after 5 minutes of being alone, I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I love him.  And how he should know that even in the middle of a fight.  It was just one talk, one disagreement, or as I like to call it, “Fight #1 about Money,” because I know enough about being married that it won’t be our last fight about the “M” word.  But if I had to pick someone to fight with (and my mom was busy) I’d definitely pick the Scottish.  🙂

So I dragged myself back out to the living room for a hug.

Me: “I love you.  Are you still annoyed with me?

Scottish: “Yea, a little.”

Me: “Yea me too. You coming to bed soon?”

Scottish: “Yea, you go lay down, I’ll be there in a minute.”

*kiss*

Quote: “Money frees you from doing things you dislike. Since I dislike doing nearly everything, money is handy.” Groucho Marx

Why Do I Look so Fat in Pictures Part 2

2 May

As you may or may not know, when you are looking for a certain type of advice or information on the internet the easiest way to find it is to enter your inquiry into the search tab and click enter. If you are searching for a particular blog about a specific topic, the same situation applies. At WordPress.com they track the phrases people type in that brings them to your blog. I kid you not, the most searched for phrase that directs people to my blog is,

WHY DO I LOOK SO FAT IN PICTURES?

… (waiting for the laugher to subside) Color me surprised! My most commonly searched phrase has nothing to do with relationships or weddings or family or religion or even Kim Kardashian.

I can’t say that I’m shocked, since my previous post with that exact title was my way of sharing with you all that I had joined Weight Watchers. Well since then I have fallen off the WW wagon, but fortunately I am still down the 13 pounds I lost when I first started. The points system just became too dreary and stupid, plus after going to Scotland and ignoring my diet, I got lazy and indifferent.

Despite all that, I’m feeling pretty darn good about my body these days. I’m still watching what I eat and some days I enter my points (most days I don’t) and I’m still working out when I can. But the issue that haunted me back then is haunting me still, and I can’t help but ask, WHY DO I LOOK SO FAT IN PICTURES? Remember my friend who recently got married, and remember how I was the Maid of Honor? Well she sent us a link to some of the pictures that her photographers posted online. And I was literally taken aback, practically falling off my stool in fright! The first picture I’m in is one where I’m helping the bride put on her veil. My upper body looks like I’ve gained about 20 pounds, no joke. My arms are huge and floppy, my one boob is bulging out and I’m looking wider than ever. WHHHHYYYYY!!!!!

Talk about disappointing. I was feeling good and I thought I looked good. So I sent the link to the Scottish, my mother, and best friend, asking their unbiased honest opinions. They said maybe the cut of that dress wasn’t the best on you, and they thought that specific picture was a bit off but I looked great in the rest of them. Ahh, suspicions confirmed! Clearly I look like a curvy, gorgeous, model in REAL life but in pictures I’m the extra-large version of myself! Or is the camera adding ten pounds and a dose of reality?

In related news, I’ve come to the conclusion that I LOVE food more than I HATE working out. I’ve discovered that both an aversion to working out and an obsession with sweets is a deadly combination. Therefore, I’m going to amp up the calorie burning so I can maintain the joy I feel from eating. Mmmm food. Food.is.so.good.

Did I mention the one thing I’m splurging on for the wedding is photography? By splurging I don’t mean spending copious amounts of money, rather I won’t be penny-pinching my photographer or going with the cheapest option. I won’t be having my guests DIY the photos with disposable cameras, or limiting our photographers to a certain number of hours. I want the whole day captured and I want our story told.

Yes, I’m so cliché it hurts, right? I want to lose weight for my wedding like every other bride-to-be on the planet! BUT NO, that is not how I see it.

I love my curves and my shape, but I need to tone up. I want to get those prints back from my photographer and not utter a single complaint (which is hard because we are all our own biggest critics when it comes to our bodies). Instead of screaming, WHY DO I LOOK SO FAT IN PICTURES? I want to scream, WOW, I LOOK SO GOOD IN THESE PICTURES!!

Can I do it? Any tips out there??

Quote: “I have to exercise in the morning before my brain figures out what I’m doing.” Marsha Doble

I’m a church-crier and other embarrassing confessions from this weekend

29 Apr

I took out a five-year-old. At work on Friday, I was taking little Becca to a Spanish camp placement visit in Oak Park (a suburb very close to the city). I printed out directions (despite having lived in Oak Park for a full year) and followed them, which was my first mistake, because they took me through downtown which was miserable with traffic. I should have taken the freeway, but soon it was too late to switch routes and we were running LATE. I called the place and said we’d be there soon but I really, really hate being late, so I wanted to get there as soon as possible. After we’d parked and paid the meter, Becca and I crossed the street and I suggested we run. We rarely run, because running is stupid and Becca prefers to run at recess, not when being asked. But she knew we were late so she agreed. We started running and the stupid uneven sidewalk paired with my inherent klutzy-ness caused me to trip and fall to the ground taking poor Becca down with me! We were holding hands and there was no escaping our double-fall. She started to cry, and we examined our wounds while the homeless guy down at the corner shouted to us, “Are you OK?” I replied that yes, we were fine while attempting to soothe a teary-eyed Becca, getting her laugh it off and suggested that Nini had learned her lesson, no running in Oak Park!! We brushed ourselves off and got back to it, this time, walking briskly but not running. We passed the homeless guy who started to say, “Ma’am, would you—,” I cut him off saying “Sorry, we’re in a hurry Mister.” He says, “Yea you in hurry, that’s why you tripped.” Well played homeless man, well played.

lovely (older) photo of Becca and I

I pissed off my neighbor. In my condo building lives this sweet older woman across the hall. Her name is Fran. When she first saw me moving in back in 2009 she assumed I was another renter because the condo was getting renovated at the time. Nope, that was all me! I bought it! Fran was happy to learn this because she did not like having renters moving in and out year after year (the previous owner had used my junior one bedroom as a rental property.) Over the last three years, Fran and I have exchanged Christmas cookies and causal conversation. I’m kind of an excellent tenant, if I do say so myself. My idea of hosting a party is having girls over for wine and girl talk. The last few months I’ve barely been home because I’ve been nesting with the Scottish in our apartment on the other side of the city. Well, as the Scottish and I were clearing out my place yesterday we ran into Fran, still in her dressing gown at 2 PM I might add, and we started chatting with her. She asked what we were doing and I said I’m moving in with the Scottish because we got engaged! Yay! She was excited and happy for us! Then she asks, “So are you going to sell the place?” I say, “Nope, we’re going to get a renter in here sometime in August.” Cut to the most crestfallen woman I’ve ever seen. It was like she’d be told her dog died. A RENTER!?!??! HOW AWFUL!!! She recovered with, “Well, much happiness to you both, and then promptly shut the door. Awkward city. So I’m currently seeking really nice, super quiet and perhaps even boring, squeaky clean person who is hardly ever home to rent my condo and keep elderly neighbor happy at the same time… sigh.

AFTER

I cried in church. I’m a church-crier, it’s true. I feel like I’ve shared this little nugget on “Drama Happens” once before but I’ll share it again. I realize I’m quite the obnoxious over-sharer and but this specific confession really brings everyone’s judgy-eyes out. “You cry in church? But… why?!!?!?” It is weird. I tend to cry at about 90% of the sermons I hear and I don’t even know why! I guess it’s triggered by a sweet personal story, or a quote or phrase that makes me think, or when something reminds me of one the relationships in my life. Whatever the reason, if I feel intense emotion (good or bad) my eyes start to fill up. I’ve gotten quite good at blinking the tears away or letting them pool until I can get a good swipe of my hand up to my face to wipe them away all at once. Still, it gets tricky. And it’s just a very public place in a very quiet room and suddenly I feel like all eyes are on me and public display of emotion. If anything, it gives the Scottish more comedic material. Aren’t I the nicest?

Does anyone else do something really embarrassing that is kind of odd?

Quote: “But I learned that there’s a certain character that can be built from embarrassing yourself endlessly. If you can sit happy with embarrassment, there’s not much else that can really get to ya.” Christian Bale

How do you get a man to sell his first car?

25 Apr

This is a very serious question to a very serious problem. My lovely fiancé, the Scottish, has a car back in Scotland, and myself, his parents, and everyone else on earth thinks he should sell it. While the Scottish says he will sell it, he is dragging his feet so badly that I’m starting to doubt if he ever will. I mean, he says things like, “But it’ll be paid off in a year,” and “It’s my first car!” What bothers me is that my Scottish is one of the smartest people I know, so he must realize how stupid it is to pay monthly car payments and insurance on a car that doesn’t get driven! He’s been doing this for over three years, since he bought it back in 2009, and since it doesn’t appear he’s going to be living in Scotland anytime soon (thank you 2 year visa extension), I’ve decided it’s high time he stop procrastinating and sell the damn thing. But I’m getting ahead of myself, let me tell you how it all began… BTW, this is a very sad “white people problems” story, so prepare yourself accordingly.

When my beloved first signed up to work for his current company he was fresh out of University and excited to be hired by the first job he applied for! He was asked if he would be willing to travel internationally, and the Scottish eagerly replied with a “Yes,” which is good because a “NO” is a sure way to NOT get hired by this company. So within his first few months working of for them the Scottish was sent to Australia and that’s where he fell in love with my greatest rival, the beautiful Melbourne. The Scottish LOVES Melbourne and would happily move back there in a hot second. Unfortunately for him, when we fell in love, the only place I agreed to travel internationally to was Scotland. Just kidding, I really want to visit Australia and we were thinking about it for the honeymoon, but it’s just too expensive so we’re looking into other options.

photo courtesy of http://www.tripadvisor.com

Back to my story, the Scottish was supposed to be in Australia for a few months, but his stay was extended to almost a full year. Once he was back in his home country of Scotland he was considering buying a car, but kept putting it off in case he was sent somewhere else. Eventually, he caved and bought himself a used black Volkswagen Golf S with 1.9 TDI. (Whatever that means, NOTE: It’s obvious I’ve asked the Scottish for specific information which in turn means he knows about this post and isn’t upset by it. The Scottish supports my writing and doesn’t mind being the topic of humorous conversation! I feel the need to point that out because people occasionally ask me how he feels having his life out for everyone to read, which is a great question BTW!)

The Scottish was trying to put off buying a car because he was certain the minute he bought one he would be sent somewhere for work. And that’s exactly what happened! The Scottish purchased his car in February of 2009 and he was sent to America in February of 2009, which means he got to drive his car for roughly 2.5 weeks before he had to leave. At the time they told him he would be in Chicago for three weeks only. Well, three weeks turned into three months, which turned into a two year contract which turned into indefinitely after meeting and proposing to one sexy blonde.

See, what a sad story about a guy and his first car.

photo courtesy of http://www.friday-ad.co.uk

The Scottish LOVES his car and does not want to part with it, and I totally understand why, but it’s hard for me to justify the monthly payments. Mom Scottish is nice enough to drive the car once in a while to make sure the engine still starts, and Dad Scottish appears to be taking care of all the mail and maintenance relating to the car, but still, IT JUST SITS THERE, in the driveway, doing NOTHING for most of the year! The only time the Scottish gets to drive his baby is when he is home for a few weeks at a time.

He thought about having it sent over to the US, but only briefly because the cost to ship a vehicle overseas is about the same as just buying a new used car. Plus, the steering wheel is the WRONG side for us in the states, and finally, future Mrs. Scottish (me) cannot drive a stick shift car, and surely that would pose a problem down the road. My Dad tried to teach me back in high school, but I just never got the hang of it.

In conclusion, I feel stuck. I need help convincing the man I love to sell the car he loves, and not just because we’re planning a wedding, or because he could use the money to pay off his little bit of student loan debt left in the UK, or because we are saving to buy a house someday. I’m most upset because I hate watching money be thrown down the toilet! I am not the best person with money (duh) but I always pay off my credit card each month because I hate paying extra for something I’ve already bought! At least when I get a pedicure I see the fruits of that money for weeks! We rarely see his car and I’ve already promised him that he can have final say over the next car we purchase together. Hopefully that isn’t soon because I’m sure he’s going to want something amazing (aka expensive). And I know I’ll be pretty sad when my little silver Hyundai croaks because I love her… after all she’s my first car. 🙂

personal photo

Quote: “A guy knows he’s in love when he loses interest in his car for a few days.” Tim Allen

I was in a wedding this weekend!

23 Apr

On Saturday I was the Maid of Honor in my friend’s wedding. My friend, AKA the BRIDE, looked absolutely BEAUTIFUL. It was such a special day and I’m so glad I was there to see all the hard work come to fruition.

The days leading up to the wedding were kind of hectic, mostly for the bride and her mother (who did all her flowers and might do my flowers next March if I’m so lucky), but as MOH, I got to join in some of the hectic fun too! Two days before the wedding, the bride and I were meeting to get our nails done, and what happens? My friend got a flat tire and we have to call AAA. Luckily, they quickly put on a spare and we moved on to other errands and lunch. The day before that she had to drop her almost-husband off at work because HIS car broke down. They say it’s good luck to have bad luck before the wedding, right? Luckily, my friend was quite the pro at keeping her cool and just kept laughing stuff off. The night before the wedding the bride, myself, and her friend from out-of-town spent the night in a king-sized bed, trying to get sleep before THE BIG DAY.

And at the spunky hour of 6 AM, her designer/seamstress/friend arrived with her gorgeous wedding dress (having worked all night on some last minute hiccups). She tried it on and it fit! We rejoiced and started to get ready. Around 10 AM, she decided to look at all her wedding jewelry and noticed that her custom-made bracelet had broken. NOT GOOD. We had lunch/family/bouquets coming at 11 and the hair stylist coming at noon! The three of us made a mad dash to the mall and bought a few new strands, and after some jewelry surgery, she had a beautiful new bracelet to wear. 🙂

Then everyone started to arrive and her hotel room was bustling. We all got pretty, steamed our dresses, put on our jewels, and by 4:30 we were waiting in the lobby for our transportation to the church.

The ceremony was a Catholic mass and while that’s not my normal cup of tea, it was still very lovely and the priest was great. The aisle was quite long but I made it up the whole way without tripping! I did not, however, make it through the whole service without crying, but that was to be expected. 🙂

The reception was a blast because their families really know how to party and dance, and they had hired a fantastic band! I wish I could describe how beautiful my friend looked, but let’s just say she was stunning and leave it at that. (Her husband looked adorable too but no one outshines the bride!) The day went by just as they had imagined it, and I know they are still trying to let it sink in that they are officially married! I’m so excited for them and so relieved I made it through my toast (which got quite a few compliments I might add). The party went on well into the early morning and everyone had an amazing time! Plus, I totally maxed out the sweet table. Yum!

Soon it was Sunday. And exhaustion hits. After the Scottish and I left the hotel we stopped at Old Country Buffet. EPIC FAIL. I was in a daze, clearly, and the Scottish had never been to one. I guess I had these great memories of going there as a kid because you can get whatever you want and fill up your plate as many times as you’d like and there’s DESSERT, lots of DESSERT! As an adult, OCB is just sad and gross. I mean, the food is processed and weird, and it’s not the cleanest of restaurants, I mean, a Denny’s would have been 5 steps up but no, we had to go to the buffet. Sigh.

Sunday included a nap (I never nap), but it did not include a shower (I always shower). Crazy, right? Sometimes it’s good to take a break from life and do nothing. So that’s what I did. Even if it was hard. Yes, you heard that right, it’s DIFFICULT for me to relax. (Again, thank you mother.)

Anyway, want to see a picture of my bouquet… isn’t it lovely?? Her mom did an excellent job.

Quote: “To love and be loved is to feel the sun from both sides.” David Viscott

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