"I do"

I think every wedding story has things that make it special--whether it be humorous or touching or even downright disastrous.

D and I have two wedding days--or I like to say one marriage day and one wedding day.

Our choice of career doesn't give us much say over what free time we have, especially because we are both still in training.  Once we are fully qualified, things will be much less crazy, but the way things happened for us is this:

I wanted to elope.  D, however, really wanted to get married in California, where all of his family and friends are, and have a big traditional thing with cake and flowers and lunch and groomsmen and walking down the aisle and the preacher from his church, etc.   We were given one 4-day weekend for the year--this seemed like our only opportunity.   But because it was a holiday weekend, we wouldn't be able to secure a marriage license, etc in California because all of the courthouses would be closed.

SO, we decided to get the paperwork done in Texas (meaning we would literally, by law, be husband and wife), then travel out to California and hold the ceremony with all of the extras that D wanted.  Thus, our marriage was on a very hot Texas June afternoon, and our wedding was on a gorgeous northern California July afternoon.

One of my favorite wedding stories is, in fact, our marriage story.

After work on the decided day, still in our uniforms, we rushed to the courthouse.  We were told the office we needed was actually across the street, in the annex.  So we get to that building and wait in line.  They check our IDs, ask for our money, and after about 30 minutes, we have it in our hands--our marriage license.

Yay!

But, neither of us having been married before, we weren't exactly sure what this meant--does this mean that we are legally married?  No, we were told, if you want the judge to marry you then you need to schedule an appointment.

Oh.

Okay then.

So the day AFTER the decided day, we once again rush to the courthouse (annex, this time), still in our uniforms.  We talk to the Judge Eddie Howard's secretary--and realize we forgot to bring the cash!  The very kind Texan woman says there is a bank just down the street with an ATM.  Running (literally) through the scorching Texas afternoon, still in our uniforms, we arrive at the bank.  After a 5 minute search for the ATM, we have $60 cash in our hands.

And then we run back to the annex.  In the scorching Texas summer.  In our uniforms, boots and all.

We once again talk to the judge's secretary and try to hand her our $60 cash.  But she won't take it.

Apparently a marriage only costs $50.

You can't give us cash back?  No.  Okay, well then you can just keep the $10.  No, I can't do that--I'm not allowed.  (By now it's almost time for the judge's next appointment.)  Is there anybody in the office that can break a $20 for us?  Everyone checks their wallets--nope.

But wait!  Remember on our run--we passed a man with a hot dog stand!  I'll bet he'll give us change.

So once again we brave the Texas sun and run to the hot dog stand where we purchase one A&W root beer for 75 cents.

When we return to Judge Howard's secretary, she is finally satisfied that we have fulfilled all requirements and asks us to wait for the judge in his courtroom next door.

10 minutes later, with a can of A&W root beer on the table, tears in our eyes, sweat on our foreheads and my hat still in my left hand, we each said I do.

Still in our uniforms.

Halloween Spirit

So you know how when you were little your mom always told you, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all"?  Well, my mom did, anyway.  That's kind of how I've been about blogging for the past few months.

But here's to looking for the good in life!

I grew up in a house where probably the worst thing you could do was make a mess.  I think this has led to many of my peculiarities, one of them being that up until a couple weeks ago I had only ever carved two pumpkins.  Ever.  One was at my aunt's house when I was a kid and the second was on a group date when I was 17.

Last week my husband made sure we upped that number.

 D's a little more creative--and gruesome--than I am. (Note the  pumpkin being eaten, the pumpkin shot in the head, and the pumpkin with its face cloven in half.)  (Yes, I said cloven.)

The pumpkins got us into the Halloween Spirit.  A couple days later this is what happened:

And for dinner:

So...what else do we need to do for Halloween?  Traditions, anyone?

New Beginnings

There is a little self-imposed pressure when writing the first post on a new blog.  I feel like I should be especially witty or have an especially funny story.  But then I remember one of the things I love most about blogging: I don't have to try to please anyone except... me.  I can write as much or as little or be as wit-less and as un-funny as I want, because people will either read it... or not... and what I decide to write is going to be published anyway.  (Truth be told, I mostly do this for my own pleasure.  Those who know me well know that I don't like to hear myself talk--but sometimes I do like to hear myself write.)


I've been good adequate at keeping a journal in my years of life, and if for some strange reason anyone ever tries to compile all of my journals, they will recognize that I rarely fill one up--when I get to a new phase in life, I generally buy a new journal as a symbol of my "new beginning."  Sometimes it's a big event that sparks this new beginning, but sometimes it's because there has been a gap in my journal-keeping and if I continue to write in my old journal I feel like I need to chronicle everything that has happened since the last entry.  Starting a new journal gives me the (yes, self-imposed) freedom to begin wherever I want.


This blog is like a new journal, for both of the reasons listed above.  I am now a married woman, and it has been SEVERAL months since I posted to my last blog.


So come in, sit down, and get comfortable.  Read if you want to, share if you want to...this is my "dinner table" and I want you to have as much--or as little--"share in the conversation" as you would like.

(Pride and Prejudice, anyone?)