1 Year Plus 1 Day = Wedded Bliss

Yesterday was our one-year wedding anniversary. We celebrated with a casual dinner out, creme puffs and mini eclairs from the French bakery that made the croquembouche for our wedding, and a bottle of red wine gifted to us from friends Tim and Karen Bren. I have been a married woman for one year and one day. Lordy. In some ways it feels like this has been the fastest year of my life, and that the wedding and honeymoon and endless planning and phone calls and scheduling were all just two months ago. But on the other hand it also seems like another lifetime ago. And I can hardly remember what life was like before being married to Matt, which according to my mother-in-law, is a good sign. Indeed.

Shopping Spree

You know what's fun? Getting married. (Clarification: The actual getting married part, not all the planning and leading-up-to parts.) You know what else is fun? Getting wedding presents. But you know what is even more fun than that? Waiting until months and months after the wedding excitement has died down and then one day collecting all the gift cards you were given and going out and buying a whole bunch of stuff with them. Since our 6th Lunarversary and Matt's knee surgery are fast approaching, we decided on Saturday to brave the mall and close out our wedding registries while our discounts were still valid and Matt was still able to walk without the use of crutches and, you know, do manly things (i.e. carry heavy bags). We came home with a carload of stuff. I was so excited I could hardly contain myself. Matt was slightly less excited. This is what he looked like while I was a mere 5 feet away on the living room floor, ripping into the many boxes and packages. Seriously, how could he remain so blase? When I was done, this is what we were left with to wash and put away in the kitchen. And this is what we were left with to stuff into the recycle bin. Another nice thing about all of this? Being reminded yet again what truly outstanding, generous, loving, thoughtful friends and family we have. We're so blessed. And so happy to have new pots and pans.

Yes, Virginia, There Was a Honeymoon

We finally finished our honeymoon photo album. Click here to view it online, or come visit us and we'll show it to you in person. And we'll probably feed you treats, too.

Lovey Dovey

Today Matt and I are celebrating our one-month anniversary. Feel free to gag if that's too sweet for you...

Sob, Sniffle, Sigh . . .

I was totally unprepared for how emotional I would get seeing ceremony photos for the very first time. This morning a coworker gave me a cd of photos that her husband had taken at the wedding, not knowing that I hadn't yet seen any pictures from the actual ceremony. After all, my closest friends and family who had already shared their pics with me were all in the wedding and therefore didn't have any! The tears sprang right to my eyes as I watched the slideshow three times through, remembering just how it felt to be marrying the man of my dreams surrounded by all the people we love most in the world. And also noticing things for the first time that I didn't have the time or attention to notice that day: how intensely green the grass and trees were out there in the garden, the brightness of the blue sky, the fabulous fabric and ribbons decking the aisle, just how handsome the men looked in those fab Dean Martin inspired tuxes.... I'm almost tempted to regret our decision not to hire a videographer, but in the end I'm still glad we didn't. Because this truly was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of day. For us, it was the perfect wedding. And while it may have been nice to see it all happening again, it would be just that--seeing it, like a "Very Special Episode of...." Nothing could match the experience of actually living it that day, and that's what I most want to remember anyhow.

It's Mrs. Spacelady Now

Yes, friends, it is true. No, it wasn't some dream or fantasy: I am now a married woman. Perhaps 10 years or so later than I'd maybe envisioned as a young girl . . . but in this case it was absolutely worth the wait.

Amazingly enough, I remember just about everything from that day--from struggling to hold my eyes open while Jill applied eyeliner to the ticklish inner corners of my eyes, to putting on the dress and seeing the final touches come together as Cassandra placed that one last flower in my hair, to chatting with my dad to calm our nerves before walking out those big doors into the bright sunshine and the gaze of 120 of our closest friends and family, to how I felt as I spoke the vows uniting my life to Matt's forever (or as I often remind him, "Until we're dead!"), to being pleasantly surprised at just how tasty wedding chicken and mashed potatoes could be, to dancing with my new husband for the first time as my flip-flop clad feet slid around beneath me on the slick dancefloor, and greeting and hugging as many people as we could throughout the evening.

I'll have more to say in future posts, but for now I'm just happy and wanted to relive it all for just a moment before going back to work . . . .

Sexy Ladies

It's official: I have the best looking, most kindhearted, most attentive girlfriends on the planet.

Bronze Goddess

Having seen with my own eyes the phenomenal results Kelly achieved with her airbrushed tan, today I went to see Donna at Tropical Sun to have her work her magic on me. It was cold, it was painful (try holding your arms out horizontal to the ground for 30 minutes), and it was slightly humiliating (nudity with strangers, anyone?). But, boy, was it worth it. I look exactly as I hoped I would: healthy and glowy and not too dark. And definitely NOT orange. Before and after photos of my formerly sad, pasty legs:

I Went to the L.A. County Courthouse and All I Got Was This Marriage License

An hour's drive through rush hour downtown traffic, one breakfast in a courthouse cafeteria, one walk through a metal detector, and an hour's wait and....we have a license to wed! (Is it dumb that I freaked out about posting personal info on the web and so blacked it all out??)


Included in the packet of material they gave us as we left was this helpful booklet: "Your Future Together...Health Information You Need to Know (previously titled: If There Are Children in Your Future)." It covers such topics as "Living a Healthy Lifestyle," how to et tested for HIV, and "What is Domestic Violence?" Then there's a section on planning for pregnancy, like taking multivitamins and--evidently--eating yogurt. (Did Yoplait fund this?)

But perhaps the most disturbing part was the chapter on all the horrible genetic and birth defects your baby might have (and, yes, it does address the issue of having babies with your cousin). Oddly enough, this picture of an unusually ecstatic-looking new father appeared on the same page as the descriptions of primary congenital hypothyroidism, congenital adrenal hyperplasia, and sickle cell disease.

One of These is Not Like the Others

So a couple of weeks ago my mom came with me for my wedding-day hair trial run with a gal named Cassandra who'd come highly recommended by my cousin, Shannon. The name of her salon is Technicolor, and before we arrived I asked my mom, "So what do you want to bet you and I aren't exactly going to fit in at this place?" Sure enough, it was one of those trendy salons with white, industrial loft interior walls accented by support beams painted a bright orange. Andy Warhol-inspired artwork adorned the walls, and the lobby even had those big spherical chairs that you literally sit IN--like Mork's big egg. We walked in and the receptionist was dressed all in black, had multiple piercings on her face, tattoos-a-plenty, jet black hair, and maroon bangs cut in a blunt line across her forehead. The girl coming out as we walked in had obviously just touched up her fire engine red dye job. So, basically, Mom and I looked like Mary and Laura Ingalls dropping in at the Headbanger's Ball. We waited a few minutes and then Cassandra came out to meet us. I admit a very mild and fleeting moment of panic, imagining myself walking down the aisle with a bleach-blonde mohawk, but it only took a few short minutes to realize that Cassandra--as well as everyone else in the shop, for that matter--was nice as can be. Before we knew it, we and the other black-clad, nose-pierced, fishnet-wearing girls were swapping stories and gossiping about celebrities like we were all old friends.