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There is one thing that the pastor that married us said during counseling that keeps coming back to me. I really like it, so I thought I’d share it with all of you.
“Getting married means that you’re saying yes to each other, and in effect, you’re saying no to all others that you’ve known in your past, and all others you will meet in your future.”
I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that saying yes to JB was the best decision I’ve made in my life.
*swoon*
Yes, I’m still basking in the post-honeymoon glow.
Well, my parents are now in town. Greg, Jane, Jack and Luke are staying in Incline Village (30 minutes outside of Reno at Lake Tahoe), and they arrived there last night. Today, I have a bridesmaid (Sami) and JB’s sister and her boyfriend showing up. Tomorrow, we’ll see the rest of the wedding party and JB’s parents. Woah! I feel like I’m on a runaway train! Time already feels like it has been sped up.
I guess my main concern as of right now is the darn weather. It’s supposed to be beautiful all week, but then it will change on Saturday, when it is supposed to get cold (in the 60s) and rainy.
This is Nevada and October, a state that doesn’t get much rain at all, and in the month that we get the least amount of rain. The odds of it raining on my wedding day were slim, but now it’s looking like a pretty certain possibility. Can’t I get cut some slack in the weather department? Oh well, at least all of the festivities are inside.
We now have limo arrangements to and from the reception, as well as luxury hotel suites for Friday - Sunday. Friday night, I’ll be staying in a suite with Sami, one of the bridesmaids, so that I’ll be following the tradition of not seeing my groom until the ceremony.
Tomorrow, I have my bridal portrait, and I’m still not sure how the heck I’m going to do my hair for it. I guess we’ll just wait and see what inspiration hits me.
This is likely to be my last post for a while. Thanks to all of you for your support over the past five months!
I have been contemplating for a few weeks now what I wanted to engrave in JB’s ring. After searching countless websites for ideas, I remembered the title of a poem that I wrote for him in September of 2003. So I’m now headed to a jeweler to get “You Make My Heart Smile” engraved in his ring along with our wedding date. Here is the poem that inspired me. Heh. I inspired myself!
You Make My Heart Smile
I don’t know why
I’m so afraid
If you weren’t real
I would make you up.
I’d imagine the love
In your green eyes,
The taste
Of your soft lips,
The sound of our laughter,
And the feel of your hand in mine.
Every day I grow closer to you
And realize more and more
That you’re exactly
What I’ve been looking for.
You make me laugh,
You make me sigh,
You give me butterflies,
But most of all,
You make my heart smile.
Take my hand
We’re in this together
I can’t wait to see
Where this path leads.
My college roommate, Katie, called last night. She’s coming out next week for the wedding, so we were making final plans and doing a bit of catching up.
“Are you still dating *man’s name*?” I asked her.
“Oh, no!” She replied, “he’s married to someone else by now. That was two years ago!”
“Are you still training for a marathon?” I asked.
“No, that was a year and a half ago.”
Geesh, I didn’t realize I had gotten so out of touch with her! At least we’ll get a chance to catch up a bit next weekend. Katie and I lived together for two years, went through the Marketing program together, and we also worked at the NMSU pool as lifeguards and later lifeguard supervisors.
In other news, tonight the boys in JB’s band are taking him out for a bachelor party. One of them owns a 1970s Cadillac limo, so he’s the designated driver. The thought of them all tooling around in that car really cracks me up.
Since I’m flying solo tonight, I’m hooking up with a girlfriend for a hike, and then her husband will be cooking us dinner. I’m sure I’ll get home many hours before JB.
Our plans this weekend include washing at least three of our four vehicles (inside and out), washing all three dogs (who are so dirty your hands turn black when you pet them), and cleaning the house in preparation for company. Somewhere in between all the cleaning, I’ll be packing for Italy, organizing what stuff goes to the reception hall, church, etc., we’ll hopefully find some time to relax and we’ll go to our second and final counseling session on Sunday.
I have a feeling the next three weeks are going to pass in a hurry for us.
The wedding is so close that we can now watch the ,weather forecasts for it:
October 9 Saturday
Partly Cloudy Hi: 68° Low: 42°
Am I really getting married one week from Saturday?! By golly, I am, and I can’t believe how close it is getting! JB and I are remarkably calm so far. We’ll see how the next two weeks go.
We had our first pre-marital counseling appointment with the pastor yesterday. We showed up right on time, just to discover that the pastor had thought our appointment was at 1:00 and not at noon. Once again, another example how nothing can be easy while you’re in the process of planning a wedding.
So, we walked around Downtown Reno, and checked out the interesting folk at Street Vibrations, the sixth largest Harley event in the country.
The counseling appointment went well. The pastor focused on our personal histories, our history as a couple, and our family relations. He also asked a bit about how we interact.
I think my favorite questions were the following:
“Do either of you have a disease that the other person doesn’t know about?”
“Do either of you have an unfinished relationship that the other person doesn’t know about?”
We had to chuckle at those questions afterwards, because really, if you had deceived your significant other up to the point of getting engaged and going to premarital counseling, is someone really going to come clean in front of a pastor? I doubt it. Over lunch afterwards, we both came up with answers to those questions that would have really thrown the pastor for a loop. But we were good children during the session, I promise.
We both really liked the pastor. I was relieved when he didn’t interrogate us on why we hadn’t been going to church on a regular basis, didn’t chastise us for living together prior to marriage, and said that the vows in the Methodist church are about equality, not a woman being subservient to her husband.
Very nice. We go back for our second and final counseling session this next Sunday. That should be interesting, because the pastor mentioned a few times that he’s going to talk to us about sex.
Now, ladies and gents, I’m off on a business trip to San Diego. I’m hoping for a bit of beach time over the next few days!
My nephew, Jack, is getting very excited to be in the wedding. In fact, I guess he has been calling himself a Tie Man. He’s very excited to wear his red tie, which I think is adorable. Jane says she thinks he’s just as excited about the wedding as I am.
We’re refraining from calling him a ring bearer to his face after hearing a story of a young ring bearer growling his way up the aisle because he thought he was a ‘ring bear’.
Isn’t he cute?
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While I was on an unvoluntary blog strike, I decided to try out a spray-on tan from a tan shop. Tan-A-Rama, in fact. I love the name.
Because of my extreme paranoia of skin cancer, you’d never catch me dead in a tanning booth. Or alive. But the idea of a perfect golden spray-on tan for my wedding — one that wouldn’t damage my skin — was attractive.
Here’s the catch with the spray on tan… Someone has to spray it on you. And it can ruin any clothes that you wear, so in essence, a complete stranger sprays your entire body while you’re completely and utterly NAKED.
Yes, this was a bit strange, but having experience with massages at a few spas, it wasn’t completely new to me.
Luckily, the girl that applied my tan was very chatty and made me as comfortable as I could be as she sprayed everything. Yes, everything, people. I was tan in places that people don’t normally get tanned.
So after you get sprayed down, you have to stand in front of a fan (still naked) for 10 minutes. It gets pretty boring standing in a booth in front of a fan, so I ended up singing and dancing to myself. I managed to keep myself mildly entertained.
After I dried off, I put on my clothes (I had brought some clothes I didn’t mind ruining if the tanner wore off on them), and drove home.
When JB saw me, he said, ‘You got some sun today!’ And I, of course, just started giggling. I eventually fessed up that it was a fake tan that I was trying for the wedding, and the man thought I had completely fallen off my rocker.
In fact, my face was getting so tan that I decided to go inside and wash it, which thankfully took off the majority of the tan on my face.
The thing they don’t tell you about the fake tan is that it rubs off. You should see my poor pillow case. It turned orange. I stained the sheets, and even JB’s clothing fell victem.
And all I could think was that I’ll be damned if I’ll wear a white dress while I have fake tanner that could leave orange stains all over it.
I had circles of pale on the top of my feet where my tennis shoes tied. The insides of my elbows were REALLY tan. And though I liked how my arms, chest, and shoulders looked, it really didn’t look like me.
I’m the girl that was told by one of my brother’s friends at age 12 that I’d never find a boyfriend because I was so pale.
I’m the girl that bathes in 45 SPF before venturing out into the sun — summer or winter. I’m not the girl that has a tan.
OK, I used to be tan during my days as a lifeguard, but that tan was a result of hours in the sun wearing 45 SPF.
So, I decided that I’m going eau natural for the wedding. You may not be able to tell where my pale skin stops and the white fabric of my dress starts, but I’ll look like ME. Not a South Beach version of me.
Thankfully, I discovered this about a month before the wedding, instead of a few days before the big day!
That’s right, folks. We’re down to three weeks and counting until the Big Day.
Today, I’m sitting in my pajamas with my hair in a lovely stage of bed head, fooling around with this darn site after sleeping in until about 10:30. It’s quite a contrast to what my day will be like three weeks from today.
I’ll be flanked by people, probably rushing to finish off last minute details, stuffing myself into a humongous white dress and donning a veil. I’m also sure I’ll be nervous as hell.
I’m really trying to enjoy this time leading up to the wedding and NOT become the infamous Bridezilla. I think I’m hanging in there OK. Besides a few centerpieces being broken in the mail, the band not returning my e-mails, and the possibility that the chocolate favors may melt in transit, I’m really not fretting over a thing. OK, maybe a few things. But not too bad, really.
The girls in my office held a lovely shower for me this week. They cooked up a dinner of pecan crusted salmon, a salad with strawberries, cranraisins, walnuts and vinagrette, a creamy fettuccine with asparagus, and a mud pie for dessert.
We ate dinner outside by my boss’s pool as we sipped wine, and then they showered me with presents. I got all kinds of cooking and baking accessories, so when I get back from the honeymoon, I think I’ll be the official office chef (even though I’ll no longer be a Cook - ha!).
The presents are starting to roll in. It’s a strange, but wonderful experience. I think the strangest part is receiving gifts from people we don’t or hardly know. But heck, I’ll take them! JB is worried we won’t have room for all of the presents, especially since almost all of them so far have been for the kitchen, but I’m confident I can find room!
The RSVPs are also flooding in. And when I say flood, I mean flood. Like Ivan. Relatives are coming out of the woodwork. People I haven’t seen for ten years are making the trek to Reno for the wedding. So far, we have people coming from New York, Illinois, Ohio, New Mexico, Texas, California, Missouri and Virginia. I’m sure there are a few more states in there, but I can’t remember them all at this time. It amazes me that people would go so out of their way to celebrate with us, and I can’t wait to see everyone. It will be one big party, people! I’m leaving singlehood with one big bash!
Since I fired the woman I had planned to do my hair for the wedding, my old hair dresser (the one I’ve been going to for three years) requested that I find some pictures of hairstyles that I like so that she can get an idea of what style I want.
The hairdresser that I fired had done the cutest french braid that started at the nape of my neck. She braided from my neck up to the crown of my head, where she secured the braid and had the rest of the hair done in cascading curls.
I thought it looked great, plus she said it was guaranteed to stay put for the whole night.
The only photo I could find of a ‘reverse french braid’ is this picture of a Barbie’s hair. I kind of have an issue with having a Barbie hairstyle on my wedding day.

We’re supposed to have two pre-marital counseling sessions with the pastor before he will perform our ceremony. When the church sent us the paperwork saying this, I called to schedule our appointments.
“Could you call back at the end of August?” They asked.
Sure. No problem. I called back on August 25.
“Could you call back next week? The person that does the scheduling is on vacation.”
Rolling my eyes, I said yes.
I called back today.
“Um, you need to call the wedding coordinator so that she can verify which pastor will be performing your service. Once she’s done that, you’ll need to call us back to schedule your appointments.”
As further proof that nothing can be done in less than three phone calls in wedding land, I’m now up to FOUR phone calls about the counseling sessions, and I still have at least one more call to make.
Perhaps this is a version of Survivor, known as Wedding Survivor. Her’s the premise of the show: they try to make it really challenging for you to coordinate all aspects of the wedding and the reception, just to see if you can make it through all of the ‘challenges’. Then, your reward at the end is that you actually get to go through with the marriage.
*checking for a hidden camera in my office*
I’ll try typing this entry a second time. I’m seriously annoyed that my computer lost it the first time around, because I’m sure my writing was much more inspired and witty. Today, I’m likely to just sound annoyed. Forgive me if I do.
I went to New Mexico this past weekend for my bridal shower. I arrived in Albuquerque around 10:00 pm and went to go meet my parents by the security gates.
They weren’t there. My parents have NEVER been late to pick me up at the airport, so this struck me as a bit odd. I continued walking down to baggage claim, and they weren’t there either.
10 minutes passed. I called them at home and on their cell phone. No answer either place.
20 minutes passed. This is SO abnormal for them that I started having visions of bad things that could have happened to them, like them being crashed in their car on the freeway. Not a pleasant thought. I started to wonder at what point I should get a cab, or call the cops to see if there had been any accident reports.
After about 30 minutes, Mom came running in to the airport. Evidently, the freeway had been shut down due to construction, and they had been caught in traffic at 10:00 at night. In Albuquerque. Go figure.
We made it home by about 11:30 and cut into the raspberry tart that Mom had made in honor of my upcoming birthday. I discovered my love for raspberry tarts while in Paris with my Mom, as we managed to find one almost every afternoon we were there at the numerous patisseries that we frequented.
Back to this weekend, though, Saturday started with Mom and I going to a kick boxing class at her gym. Do I need to say how cool it is that my Mom can kick box? OK, it’s more like Tae Bo, but still, that’s awesome.
After our workout, Mom and I headed to the stores for a 5 hour marathon shopping day. If there is one thing you should know about my Mom, it’s that the woman can shop. I, on the other hand, didn’t inherit the shopping gene, but I managed to keep up with her on Saturday.
I got a make-over at the mall for my wedding day make-up. We went to the same woman that has done make-overs on my Mom for quite a while. Since the woman knew my Mom, she would put on a bit of make-up, then push my chin in my Mom’s direction saying, “Now doesn’t that look beautiful?” I found it rather humorous every time the woman pushed my face in my Mom’s direction. It was always show Mom first, then let Lynn3tt3 (numbers added to fool search engines) look in the mirror, when I would agree with her that it looked just beautiful. I walked away from the counter with make-up that was a bit too dramatic for our shopping excursion, and a bag full of wedding-day makeup supplies.
The next project of the day was wedding shoes. I’ve already hit four stores on my own trying to find the perfect pair, and have walked away empty handed four times.
If you are a shoe salesman, I warn you to turn and run when my mother and I come in to try on shoes. We’ll usually buy a pair, but the amount of shoes we find to try on is always impressive. I think I tried on about ten pairs of shoes when I settled on a pair of white satin sandals with 3 inch heels. I guarantee you I’ll be limping around by the end of the night, but I was so sick of looking for these darn shoes that will most likely only be seen during the garter toss that I just gave in and bought them. Do you think anyone will notice if I change into my running shoes after the garter toss? I don’t, and it’s a really tempting thought.
We then headed to the pantyhose department, where I picked up my wedding day stockings, with the help of a grumpy old saleslady that kept sarcastically calling me Dear. I was rather tempted to say, “Dear, if I’m such a bother, I’ll get my stockings elsewhere,” but that would have meant taking the effort to go to another store, so I sucked it up and bought them from her.
Much more happened on our shopping excursion, but I’ll get to the stuff you really want to hear about… The Bachelorette Party. The culprits involved were Amber, my matron of honor, and Sami, a bridesmaid.
Before the girls showed up, Dad got a sullen look on his face, and said that he didn’t understand why an engaged woman and a married woman (Amber) would go out to a bar without their mates. He said that he thought it was inappropriate. I countered with the fact that many men had strippers at their Bachelor parties, and that us going to a bar together would be completely innocent.
“But are you going to dance with men?” He asked.
“Yes, Dad, I may two-step with a few people.” He shook his head. Evidence of a large generation gap.
Amber came over and outfitted me with a veil and a tiara, and buttons that said things such as “Bad Girl” and “Vamp”. It was pretty funny. She and Sami both donned buttons of their own and some Mardi Gras beads, so as to associate themselves with the Bachelorette Party.
I had forgotten how people seem to flock to Bachelorette Parties at the bar. And having never been the actual Bachelorette, it was a real treat. In fact, at times, I would forget about the veil on my head, and would catch people turning to look at me. That’s when I would remember that I really stuck out at the bar with the veil and tiara.
Countless people came up to me and asked me, “Are you getting married?”
I am a firm believer that a really stupid question at times deserves a really stupid answer, so I would look each one of them in the face and give them a confused look as I said, “Noooooooooo…..”
Their reactions were pretty funny. Especially the girl that came back up to me about five minutes later and said, “Really, are you getting married?” And, of course, I again told her no, enjoying the confusion on her face.
Come on people, isn’t it obvious?!
We ran into a few people I knew from high school and college. Damon, a guy I knew in college came up to me and we chatted for about 5 minutes about what he’s been doing with his life. Then he turned to me and said, “So, what’s new with you?”
Do you not see the giant tiara and veil on my head?!
Anyway, the night flew by way too fast, and we all had a ball. I two-stepped with three guys, each of which were perfect gentlemen that congratulated on my pending nuptials, and were very patient as I stumbled on the dance floor in my three inch platform sling back shoes.
Now, on to Sunday, the day of the shower. The shower was thrown by my Mom’s friend, who also happens to be Sami’s mother. Sami and her Mom did an incredible job, and I was amazed with the attention to detail. There were red streamers and red roses (red and red roses being part of my theme) and they were playing Italian music in the background since JB and I will be honeymooning in Italy. The shower was in the back yard, which has amazing landscaping and a cute little fountain. They had brought out the fancy table linens and the fine china, and I felt like a princess.
Amber was in charge of games, and she did a great job. No toilet paper bride games at my shower! She wrote up a game that was a quiz to see who knows the bride the best. I think the readers of this site would probably do pretty well on that quiz. Here are some of the questions:
- What place out of 1000 did Lynn3tt3 get in the Alcatraz Shark Fest Swim?
- What is the name of Lynn3tt3’s dog?
- Lynn3tt3 has two cars, what is the fun one?
- What are the names of Lynn3tt3’s brothers?
- What were Lynn3tt3 and JB in the middle of when they took a break and he proposed?
I won’t bore you with any more questions, but since Amber couldn’t play (she wrote the quiz) and we disqualified my Mom because she’d know all the answers anyways, Sami walked away the winner. Yeah, Sami!
While at the shower, several of my Mom’s friends mentioned that they had been to my site, and a few were even recommending to the others that they should go check it out. So, welcome aboard to all of Mom’s friends. I hope you enjoy the ride!
After being showered with wonderful presents, I packed everything up and headed to the airport. I was back at home in JB’s arms by 11:30 Sunday night. *sigh*
So thank you to everyone that made this past weekend very special and memorable.
I had a dream about the wedding reception last night. It all centered around the band. The band played for a while, everyone was dancing, and then they went on break.
The band was on break for forty five minutes, in which time, most of the people had decided to leave the reception. After a while, I went to search out the lead singer, and went up to her screaming, “Where the *bleep!* have you been? It has been 45 minutes and all of our guests are leaving!”
She was rather nonchalant, and I tried to calm down, telling her to put on a CD of our Frank song so that we could do our first dance.
She put on a CD of the wrong Frank song. The box step didn’t work well with it, and all of our cheography was worthless. After about a minute of stumbling around on the dance floor, I stopped, and went up to the lead singer and told her it was the WRONG Frank song, and she said that the band could play our song.
So the band started to play, and once again, it was the wrong song. JB and I were fumbling around on the dance floor, but this time, I decided we had to run with it. We started to do the swing, and next thing I knew, I had fallen onto my back. JB then asked what I wanted him to do.
“Help me up!” Was my angry response.
We then started doing the tango. Strange, I know.
After our dance, I requested a certain song for my dance with my Dad, and the band managed to screw that up, too. By that point there were about 10 people left at the reception.
And then I woke up, thinking that I need to call the band and review the play list with them.
The good news? Our band doesn’t have a female lead singer, so this all couldn’t be an omen…. Could it?
Honeymooning in Italia per undici giorni! In other words, we will be honeymooning in Italy for 11 days!
That’s right, we have booked the honeymoon. Too bad I won’t have a handy dandy website translater with me on the trip! We’re planning on spending 3 days in Capri, a few days in Florence, perhaps a day trip to Cinque Terre and a few days in Venice. The rest of the time, I think we’re going to decide at our liesure in Italy.
Going along with the theme of Nothing is Easy In Wedding Town, this is what our day was like on Saturday:
- Saturday morning, I decided to book the airfare for our trip. I called Orbitz, since I wasn’t how to book a flight that was arriving at one point in Italy and departing from another. The woman quoted me a price for the tickets, but then said she’d just show me how to book it online myself. Not a problem. So I went through, selected the flights, selected our seats for EVERY LEG OF THE TRIP, entered all of the billing information and frequent flier information, and clicked on Book It. After cranking for about 5 minutes, I got an error saying that the flight was no longer available. What?! So I went back into the system, searched for flights, and found the same flight listed there. So I went through the same process, and got the same error again. I then called Orbitz, and the girl went through getting all of the above listed information, and then when she tried to book it, she got the same error. After waiting on hold for about 20 minutes, she came back and said there wasn’t enough time between my International Flights, so the airline was blocking the booking. Lovely. That fiasco took about 1.5 hours. I had to take a break, and later that afternoon, I came back and booked another flight with a much less attractive departure time and hellaciously long lay-overs (4 hours in Dallas Fort-Worth — blek!). But we’re going to Italy, so it’s all good, right?
- We went to get JB’s ring. Of course, the first jeweler we went to didn’t have any plain gold wedding bands. Excuse me?! What kind of jeweler doesn’t carry plain gold wedding bands for men? So we perused a catalog, found what he wanted and ordered it. I then suggested we go to another jeweler so that he could try rings on, considering the man has never worn a ring in his life. We found an identical ring for much less money, but for a reason I won’t say here, JB didn’t want it. So we know exactly what kind of ring he wants, but still no ring in hand.
- On to the tuxes. We decided to go to a tux shop in Carson City, as it would make things easier on JB and the groomsmen the week of the wedding. There aren’t any national tux shop chains in Carson City. The first one we went to, we walked in, and the shop didn’t have anything on display. A woman walked out from the back of the shop and said, “May I help you?” And after we told her we were looking for some tuxes, she said that they were now out of business. (So how could you have “helped us” anyway?) We then went to a second shop, that was out of business. (Mental note: don’t open a tux shop in Carson City) The third shop had tuxes, but no air conditioning. So after sweating it through our selection process, we have some tuxes, people!
- The man at the tux shop mentioned that we could go get our marriage license that day, and that it was right down the street. Yippee — one less chore to do another day! We went to the wedding license place, and they had closed 2 minutes earlier. We went back on Sunday, though, so that is crossed off the list.
- Finally, we went to get JB’s passport photo. We stopped by Kinko’s. There were no other customers in the store, so a logical person would think that we’d be in and out in a jiffy. Oh, no, people. We were there at least 40 minutes, as the first three sets of photos didn’t develop well. Thankfully, the fourth set did develop, and we were out of there!
So, many wedding tasks crossed off the list, but I have yet another entry to prove that nothing is easy in Wedding Land.
I discovered eBay this week.
OK, I always knew it was there, and had poked around on it before, but I had never actually signed up and attempted to purchase anything.
Until yesterday.
eBay is a bride’s best friend.
Or her worst enemy, if you look at it from the bank account’s perspective.
But seriously, within minutes, I had located and purchased: ring bearer pillow, flowergirl basket, throw garter with blue ribbon (for my something blue), bubble containers in the shape of champagne glasses (too cute!), and my bridesmaid gifts.
This could be dangerous. Must…Resist…Urge…To…Continue…Bidding…..
One year ago, I was as low as a girl can go. I was in the process of picking up the pieces of a life torn apart by The Man Now Known as The Ex. It had been a 3.75 year relationship based on friendship and trust that came shattering to an end in his lies and unfaithfulness.
But I’m a survivor. I didn’t let him jade me. I didn’t let him ruin my trust in men. I wrote him off, told him to get the heck out of my life, and I started over.
Starting over is a very hard thing to do. When I was ready, I decided to jump back into the dating pool.
I was dreading returning to the dating pool. Up until the afore mentioned relationship, I didn’t have many long term relationships. Instead, I dated, and I dated a lot. I figured that the more I dated, the more I would know what I was looking for. Which is true, but I got so sick of dating. Actually, I think it was the Dating Game that I was sick of.
If I was interested, I would have to wonder if he was going to call, if he would ask me out again, was I letting on too early that I was interested… What should I wear, what should I say?
If I wasn’t interested, many times I would go ahead and accept invitations for second and third dates, thinking I should give the guy a chance. That never ended well.
So back to the story. As you can see, even though I hadn’t been on the dating scene for a while, I knew what I was getting back into, and I wasn’t looking forward to it.
It was with a lot of trepidation that I set up a profile on Match.com.
I was relatively new to the Reno area, and didn’t have any single friends. I don’t run across single available men in my job, so I knew that the most effective way to jump back into the dating pool was online dating.
And it scared me to death. I had visions of countless of horrible dates. Of men that lied in their profiles. Of scary men showing up to meet me. Of stalkers.
But I also had visions of meeting Mr. Right. And I was up to the challenge, hoping that if I could find my Mr. Right eventually. It was time to take matters into my own hands.
I attacked the online dating scene like I would any business problem. I defined my target market, and decided how best to target to that market.
Goofy, I know. But marketing is what I do for a living.
I gathered some digital photos, wrote up my profile, and signed up for a three month account on Match.com. I was in for the long haul.
I had been online less than a week when I received the fateful e-mail from JB, then known as Stretch12.
He sounded perfect. In fact, he sounded too good to be true. And when he mentioned that his band would be playing about 10 minutes from my house on August 14th, I decided that I would go scope him out.
I was very nervous, but I enjoyed the fact that I hadn’t told him that I would show up. Hence, he wasn’t expecting me, and I could leave if he looked scary.
My first online date. Yeah, it was scary.
It took me a while to find the stage where his band was playing, and when I did find it, I stood behind a tree, making sure he couldn’t see me as I checked him out.
Pretty cute.
Pretty damn cute.
Nope, the man was HOT. And, wow, could he play the drums.
The band stopped playing, and I watched from afar as he started to pack his drums up. After what seemed like forever, he finally stood aside from the band… Alone.
My hands were sweaty, and my hands and knees were shaking. I mustered up all my courage up and went up to him. I remember clutching the water bottle in my hand so that it wouldn’t be obvious that my hands were shaking.
“Are you JB?”
“Yes.” He said, seemingly unaffected.
“Hi, I’m Anne.” Of course, I was operating under a fake name to protect my privacy.
It wasn’t until I said my name that a flicker of recognition crossed his face. His eyes got big, and he smiled, and we began talking. I don’t remember what we talked about, but I remember trying to stop my lips from shaking when I smiled. My lips always seem to shake when I’m really nervous.
That night had been his first performance with the band, and he had been nervous because of that, especially since there was a very large crowd. He had been so caught up in the gig that I think he had forgotten that he had told me about where he’d be playing.
JB eventually invited me to go into a nearby brewery to have a beer with him. We talked for two hours. Straight. No awkward pauses. Things went really smoothly, and by the end of the date, I was relatively relaxed. I felt comfortable enough to have him walk me to my car, since it was dark.
At my car, I told him my real name, and gave him my phone number. We hugged goodnight, and I remember how GOOD it felt.
I got in my car, and as I drove away, I called Amber on my cell phone. Of course, she was waiting to hear that I was safe and hadn’t been abducted by some strange online stalker man.
All I remember from that conversation is the first thing I told her, “Oh My God, he is HOT!” I think I then gushed about how perfect he was… That he was smart, had good relations with his family, had two dogs, was athletic… Just like what I had been looking for.
So, ladies and gentlemen, I’m writing to let you know that one year ago tomorrow, my life changed forever. I met my future husband, and I am happier than I’ve ever been. I am the ultimate Match.com success story. I was online for less than a week, and on my first date, I met my Mr. Right.
Meeting JB was like coming home after a long, hard journey. Being with him feels comfortable, safe… and it just feels right. More right than anything I’ve ever known. After being in a long relationship that never felt that way, I knew that the Old Man Upstairs had been looking out for me, and led me to the man that was my fate. I pray each night that God will keep him safe, healthy, and happy so that we can live many years together.
*wiping a happy tear from my eye*
And for those of you out there that are still looking for your Mr. or Mrs. Right, I’m here to tell you to keep the faith, and to not give up. That person is out there if you just look hard enough and keep your heart open.
Well, we’ve booked a band. Yeah! And, they know a bunch of Frank Sinatra songs, which is a major plus.
One more item crossed off my to-do list. Never mind that it was on JULY’S to-do list!
As the date gets closer, I just have to remind myself that no matter what goes wrong, it can’t be as bad as this.
Well, I fired the new hair dresser, even before she had a chance to do my hair. Enough was enough. It took me two weeks to get a hold of her initially, and after three cancelled appointments, I decided that she was a bit too hair brained for me.
Every phone call to her seemed to include screaming kids in the background (she has four), and she has a big problem returning phone calls. I had bad visions of her either forgetting to show up on my wedding day, canceling at the last minute, or showing up with all four kids, causing me to have a coronary on my big day.
She doesn’t even know she has been fired. She hasn’t bothered to return my phone call from last Friday. Otherwise, she would know.
So, I’m back to the hair dresser I’ve been going to for almost three years. Despite the fact that two important people in my life have recently said they aren’t impressed with her work (i.e. my hair), that’s who will be doing it. She’s dependable, and I know exactly what I’ll be getting from her.
So there. Don’t mess with the bride.
Last night, after a dinner of shrimp stir fry and a few glasses of wine, I declared that we should dance.
Every Sunday night, we listen to the Frank Sinatra and Friends show on NPR. This has lead to several Sunday nights where we dance to Frank in the living room.
For a few weeks now, I’ve been hinting to JB (OK, blatently telling him) that he should give me dance lessons for my upcoming birthday. His response is always, “Why do we need dance lessons?”
Our first dance together at the wedding rehearsal will be a Frank song. So last night, I ran out to the car and retrieved my CD of Frank’s Greatest Hits, and popped it in.
“Why don’t we try the box step?” JB said.
“You know the box step?!” I asked. JB has been known to yank my chain in the past, so I thought he was just blowin’ smoke, if you know what I mean.
“Yeah.” He said, and we assumed the dancing position, and good golly, we were doing the box step.
And he’s really good at it. REALLY GOOD. So good, that I was very curious as to where he picked this trick up, and who taught him. Especially since he had never pulled the box step out of his hat any of the other nights we danced to Frank.
And all he would say is that he picked it up from Fred Astaire.
“I don’t believe you.” I said.
“OK, I learned it from Ginger Rogers.”
And no matter how many times I asked (which was many that night), Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers was his answer. Even when I said, “don’t say Fred Astaire or Ginger Rogers.”
So there we were in the living room doing the box step to Our Song, and next thing I knew, we were both actively choreographing our dance together. It was a blast. He kept going back to the CD player so that we could rewind the song and practice certain parts.
We’re going to rock the reception, y’all. You just wait and see. I guess JB was right — we don’t need dance lessons.
And need I say how absolutely thrilled I was by this discovery, and by how well our dance is coming together?! I have always dreamed of ballroom dancing with my Mr. Right, and there I was doing it, and I will be doing it in front of all my friends and family.
Seriously, I was the girl that watched Dirty Dancing and longed to be like Baby, dancing on my tip toes with Patrick Swayze. I used to waltz around my bedroom at night… I’m truly a sucker for a good dancer.
My groom is a damn good dancer. Life is good.
We also managed to get registered this weekend. Between a “bridal consultant” that barely spoke English and a scanner gun that was very testy, it was quite a challenge. The registries are posted on the wedding page. Enjoy!
My wedding dress is in, and I went down to the shop on my lunch hour to check in on it.
“Oh, yes, your dress is here!” The saleswoman exclaimed.
Mind you that it is THREE WEEKS early. I find it ironic how much pressure I got because I was looking at SUCH A TIGHT TIME TABLE to order the dress (i.e. 4 months), and that I just had to order immediately, or risk not getting my dress in time.
They then made me frazzled, saying that they don’t assume any responsibility if the dress can’t be delivered in time, and if that is the case, they’ll try to find me an off-the-rack replacement dress. (I was thinking — please DON’T make me go through dress shopping again!)
But no, the dress is here — two months and seven days before I need it. Phew!
“Do you want to try it on?” The saleswoman asked me. Remarkably, there weren’t any other brides in there trying on dresses.
On a whim, I did try it on, and it fits great. It was so nice to have the dress lace up the back as it should, instead of fastening the back with clips and elastic straps.
I stood there looking at my reflection thinking, This is my wedding dress. This is MY wedding dress. This is my WEDDING DRESS!
Of course, I had left my digital camera in my office, and all of the other girls in the office were out to luch, too. Hence, no photographic evidence of MY dress.
Yet. As of October 9, there will be plenty of pictures of the gown.
Now if I could only find shoes. God, please send me some comfortable strappy heels. (Does such a thing truly exist?)
I met with the cake/flower lady today. Things went pretty well. Luckily, I pretty much knew what I wanted, so it was rather painless. In fact, most of the flowers will be purchased from Costco, and we’ll only be charged for delivery.
The reason why I met with her today was because I had ordered JB’s birthday cake, as his birthday is tomorrow. I thought it would save a trip if I could meet with her about the wedding and pick up his birthday cake at the same time.
Well, at the end of our meeting, I asked about the birthday cake.
“Yes, and what day did you want to pick that up?”
“I was supposed to pick it up today. I submitted my order two weeks ago.”
“Oh, well my assistant didn’t give me the message.” She said.
I think you can understand why this makes me a bit uneasy, considering we’ve already put a deposit down for her services. She’s going to “see what she can do” about his birthday cake. Which means I get to drive back there — wasting another 30 minutes of my time.
It would have been easier to bake him the cake myself, but JB specifically said he wanted to try the cake lady out. I hope this experience isn’t a foreshadowing of my wedding cake and flowers.
Perhaps it takes the huge box of invitations and envelopes to fully illustrate the enormity of the Invitations task, but Mom has graciously offered to do all of the work associated with the invitations, mentioned in the previous entry. I’m hoping she doesn’t want to strangle me when she fully grasps the task at hand.
Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!
Seriously, that is a HUGE help!
It is commonly said that weddings are one of the most stressful experiences in life, along with moving and death.
Well, people, I’m here to tell you WHY weddings can be so stressful…
It’s the darn wedding vendors. It’s all about them. I have been amazed at the utter LACK of interest and follow-up shown by the majority of the wedding vendors to which I have talked. And I’ve determined that they really don’t give a damn about customer service, because you really don’t need to worry about repeat customers in this industry.
When I first started planning our wedding, I thought that my web-savvy would save me a ton of work. I surfed around and submitted countless online contact forms.
No one responded.
Which meant that I had to go back and call these people.
And most of the time, they weren’t available, and didn’t return my calls, so I had to keep calling them.
Seriously, these people have created three times the work that should really be required for planning a wedding. This, ladies and gentlemen, is why wedding planners are in business. Wedding planners make careers out of contacting these incompetent people.
Here are the issues I’ve had:
- The original church, which couldn’t figure out for a month and a half whether or not the pastor would be available on my date. The church was available, and they don’t allow other pastors to conduct the ceremony, but gee, we just can’t seem to figure out if our pastor will be available.
- The cake/flower lady, whom I’ve called THREE TIMES. My mother has managed to talk with her on the phone and meet with her in person (how, I have now idea). Mom also put a deposit down on the cake. I was told to call the cake/flower lady in July to schedule an appointment in August for a cake tasting and flower talk. She can’t manage to return my calls, which honestly makes me a bit nervous.
- Travel agents for the honeymoon. I’ve now talked to THREE travel agents. I gave them our budget, where we wanted to go, etc., and was told they’d get back to me with some options. THEY AREN’T CALLING ME BACK. Finally, on the third agent, I made sure to get his name, and of course, after he said he would get back to me yesterday, he didn’t, and when I called for him, he was on the other line and would call me back. Of course, he hasn’t called me back.
- In the quest for the perfect band, JB came up with a band that plays weekly in South Lake Tahoe. I have Googled the heck out of this band, and can’t find any contact information for them online. And believe me, people, if someone is online, I can find them. So, we have been resorting to calling the bars where he plays. The main bar where he plays doesn’t have an answering machine, and for 5 attempts, their phone just rang and rang and rang and, well, you get the point. Finally, last night, someone picked up. We were told to go to the band’s website, that they gave us. Of course, we did, and found out that the website they gave us was for a real estate broker with the same name as the lead singer. AAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
I swear, it’s the clueless people that will drive me over the edge. I don’t have time to keep following up with them because they don’t know how to run a business. But I don’t really have a choice, now, do I?
As a disclaimer here, I do have to say that the banquet coordinator at the reception facility and my photographer so far have had excellent customer service. The rest of the ding-dongs could learn a lot from those two.
The fire is now 95% contained, and is far, far away from our wedding reception facility! Yeah! I was having visions of scrambling to find a new reception venue, caterer, etc., and that wasn’t a pleasant thought.
Our reception facility, Thunder Canyon, has been evacuated due to the fire. This morning on my way to work, I clocked the fire at 2.4 miles away from the country club.
*cringe*
Well, the invitations have been ordered. I had the exact wording of the invitation and the response card type-written on a piece of paper. I had done research online to determine the exact wording of the invitation.
When I went in to place the order, the woman took my neatly printed piece of paper and proceeded to hand write everything on the order form, in really hideous handwriting. I sat there cringing, wondering if the fulfillment people would be able to read her handwriting.
I guess we’ll see when the invitations come in, which will be in about a week.
*fingers crossed*
Three months from today, JB and I will be getting married. That’s 92 days (at least according to my handy count-down tool above)… Only 12 weeks. Geesh. It still doesn’t seem real.
I borrowed a CD of wedding ceremony music from my sister-in-law, and when I played the Bridal March song, my eyes teared up and I got the chills. I think I just have to resign myself to the fact that I’m going to cry during the ceremony, and I should wear some waterproof mascara. I cry at other people’s weddings, so I figure I’m almost guaranteed to cry at my own, especially when I take Dad’s arm to walk down the aisle and catch my first glimpse of my handsome groom.
*sniff, sniff*
Anyway, this month, we’re concentrating on hiring a band (we’re considering four as of right now), planning the honeymoon, and ordering the invitations. Of course, my to-do list is much longer than that, but those are the biggies.
Since I’ve had wedding on the brain, I’ve been reading wedding related fiction. The Bride magazines and how-to books don’t do much for me, but the wedding fiction has kept me very entertained. I just finished reading Engaging Men and Otherwise Engaged.
The Otherwise Engaged book made me feel remarkably sane, as the main character is completely freaked out about her upcoming wedding, and required twice weekly trips to the psychologist and a prescription of Valium.
My current read is Diary of a Mad Bride. So far, it’s pretty good.
Every time JB sees me with a new piece of wedding related fiction, he rolls his eyes, and inquires when I plan to finish the book that he recommended that I read, Siddartha. It’s a philosophical book about finding your true Self. I’m half way through that book, and it is pretty good, but it just doesn’t deal with the subject with which my brain is completely preoccupied, so I find myself reading the other books instead.
JB, I promise I’ll finish reading Siddartha before the wedding.
So that’s really the update on the BIG DAY. Stay tuned for more details and madness.
After nearly TWO WEEKS of trying to contact the amazing hairdresser I met at the Veil Fitting Party, I finally nabbed her today. I had left two messages, and had been calling multiple times a day, unable to leave more messages because there wasn’t an answering machine. I admit I felt like a bit of a stalker, but seriously, she impressed me that much.
Well, finally, today, she picked up. I hesitated for a minute because it completely caught me off guard. Thankfully, she is taking new clients (I had to wonder b/c she hadn’t returned my calls), and said that their answering machine was broken and they had been out of town, so that is why I couldn’t get a hold of her.
The bad news is that her shop is in Sparks, meaning it’ll be about a 20 minute drive in the wrong direction, adding at least 40 minutes to my drive when I go see her. But I really think she’ll be worth it. She’ll be highlighting my hair in July as a trial run (so excited for the three colors she mentioned she wanted to do, one of which is Honey — how can Honey be bad?!). I’ve also booked her to come do my hair and makeup on the day of the wedding. She can actually come to the church to do everything, which will make my day a lot more relaxing.
As for what she charges? That’s a darn good question. The cost of the highlight is actually less expensive than my current hairdresser, but she says that we’ll have to discuss what I want for the wedding before she can name a price. “I’m really bad at charging people. I just did a wedding 2 weeks ago and still haven’t charged them.”
Hmmmm…. So perhaps if she is bad about charging, her services will be free?! One could only hope…
And on a different note, I found this link today that recounts another bride-to-be’s feelings on bridal boutiques making brides feel like bloated whales. I’m not alone in this, people!
I got an Instant Message from my brother today saying that he will be out of town for my wedding.
I about went through the roof. After all this work of finding a date that worked for immediate family members and close friends, AND after talking to his wife about the date in depth, he’s now saying he can’t make it?!
I called him, and with tears welling in my eyes… Thoughts were racing through my mind — would we have to reschedule? It was so hard finding a date the first time around…. Crap, can we even get married this year? Now I have to go re-book the church, reception, photographer…
I think an explicative slipped out of my mouth, but the gist of what I said when I called my brother was “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
He went off on how he had this conference, couldn’t get out of it, this was the first he had heard of October 9, etc.
I sat at my desk, phone to my ear, with my head buried in my hands, and was silent.
That’s when he sarted laughing.
“Gotcha!”
Serisously, that’s not a cool thing to be joking about.
On Friday, on my lunch hour I slipped out to the Bridal shop that happens to be in the same building as my office, and ordered THE DRESS.
I had made five attempts of trying on bridal gowns, and this was the one dress I just couldn’t get out of my head. I headed down there, put it on one last time, negotiated a bit on the price while I was still wearing it, and it was a done deal.
But not before they made me feel like a huge whale.
That’s right… Because bridal gowns have such screwed up sizing, my measurements put me into a dress that is TWO SIZES above what I normally wear. And when I say what I normally wear, I mean that I know for a fact that I can waltz into any department store and try on all kinds of clothes in my normal size that will fit just perfectly.
As we were deciding what size I should order, the saleswoman starts asking if I expect my weight to fluctuate at all within the next few months.
“Well, I was planning to lose a bit of weight.” I said. And after last summer’s successful shedding of 20 pounds, I have no doubt that I can shed a bit more.
“Are you sure? Because I know I gain weight in the summers.” The saleswoman said.
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Well, you may want to try Curves…” And then she launched into a 5 minute sales pitch on how successful Curves is at helping women lose weight. And I know for a fact that Curves is aimed at women who are just starting out on an exercise and weight lifting regimine. I’ve been exercising about 6 days a week for as long as I can remember, and have been lifting weights 3 times a week, with great results, I might add, for the past year and a half. I don’t need someone to tell me about Curves.
For some reason, it just really got to me. I think it had something to do with the size of dress I had just settled on, and then the fact that she was so adamently trying to sell me on Curves… It still sits in the back of my mind.
I go back to my earlier point that they should be making women feel beautiful when they order a wedding dress, not like a beached whale.
And to top things off with the wedding stuff, I’m having MORE church issues. After getting snubbed by a pastor at one church, we decided to go with another church in Reno. For two weeks, the wedding coordinator there has been telling me that she’d send me the paperwork for the wedding, and that I need to submit that paperwork with a deposit to reserve the church. But in the mean time, she’d hold the date I had requested.
Well, two weeks after she said she’d send the paperwork, I received it. And she wrote on it that she was holding the date for me, but SHE WAS HOLDING THE WRONG DATE. After at least five prior phone calls to this woman where I was talking about the RIGHT date, she’s been holding the WRONG date for me. I left a message for her first thing this morning, but I know from experience that I’ll be lucky if I hear back from her today. Just when I think we’ve set a date, someone goes and screws things up again. I really have to wonder what God is telling me when all of the planning issues have been around churches!
Argh!
After a near heart attack because of a typo on behalf of the church, I have confirmed that the date of October 9 is THE DATE for our wedding. Let the countdown begin. Four months from TODAY, to be exact! The wedding will be held at the First United Methodist Church in downtown Reno, and the reception will be at Thunder Canyon Country Club in Washoe Valley. Stay tuned for more details!
We’re so close to having THE wedding date secured that I can taste it. We’ve ditched the previous church that I mentioned last week. After a phone call where the pastor was a you know what to me, we decided that we didn’t want some rude pastor to be the one administering our vows. She was insinuating how ‘inconvenient’ it was to do non-church member weddings, and still couldn’t tell me for another ‘few weeks’ whether or not she’d be available to perform our ceremony. Pfft on you, pastor.
So now I have two churches ‘penciling’ us in for the date. I am just debating between the two… JB became overwhelmed with all of the church choices (I’ve been talking to three recently) and left this decision up to me. Decisions, decisions.
We’ll be boating this weekend… I am so excited to be basking in the sun and doing a bit of open water swimming!
Well, I embarked on my first attempt of shopping for the perfect wedding dress yesterday. I was assisted by my Mom and my sister-in-law, Audra.
I had pilfered my way through numerous Bride Magazines (which bore me to tears), but really had no idea what style I was looking for. I decided I’d like to try on a sheath, because that is what my Mom wore at her wedding, and she and I have very similar shapes.
I ended up trying on about 8 dresses over two hours. I found 2-3 real potential dresses, but haven’t made any decisions yet. The really annoying part about dress shopping was the screwed up sizing and the fact that they have you try on ‘any size dress’.
That’s right, I was being stuffed into dresses that were FOUR SIZES TOO SMALL. They put you in the dress, and then clip it to your bra in the back since there isn’t any way it’s going to zip. Which I guess is OK, because you get the view in the front, but when they handed me the mirror so that I could check out the back of the dress, it was hard not to fixate on the 6 inch gap where the dress was supposed to be zipped up. And it’s really hard to feel beautiful when you feel like a beached whale, and really look like one from behind.
I know this is just how they do things at bridal boutiques, and I had been forewarned that most women leave those stores feeling huge… But I just don’t understand why it has to be that way. If I was running a store, I’d make all of the sizes big, so that a size 12 woman could feel really good about wearing a size 10 on her wedding day. Instead, these goofy people add on a few numbers so that your mind starts playing tricks on you…. Good God, that last dress was one size above what I normally wear, and there was no way it was getting zipped up all the way.
The woman helping me just couldn’t seem to focus on the task at hand, and I ended up getting trapped in these huge white gowns as she disappeared to the back of the store. After she did this about three times, Audra took charge and started helping me in and out of dresses. I’m one of those people that will take about 10 things into a dressing room, and in 10 minutes, I’ll be out with one winner. Things weren’t working that way at the bridal boutique. They’d get me into a dress, and then want me to stand there gazing at myself and standing on their silly little platforms in front of the mirror. When really, what I want is to put on a bunch of dresses in a short period of time. Trust me, if I like it, you won’t have to force me to gaze at my reflection.
And by the way, the one style I said I was interested in — the sheath — was not in any of the selections they brought me to try on.
The bridal gown hunt resumes this afternoon. I have my fingers crossed that today I will find “the one”.
Is it sacreligious to be angry with a church?
I was so pleased to have found the church for our wedding and to find that it was available on the date that we wanted. But now, the church staff is telling me that they’re just not sure if the pastor is going to be available on the date we’ve chosen, and that they won’t know for another two weeks.
ANOTHER TWO WEEKS?!
Which means we really shouldn’t be putting the NON-REFUNDABLE deposit down on the reception facility, which in turn means they won’t reserve the facility that date for me.
And we had finally found a date that would work for everyone in the family and close friends, plus it was in September, meaning we’d have wonderful weather.
But this darn church isn’t cooperating with me. I’ve put calls into two other churches, but I’m still seething about this. I mean, really, is it a true Christian thing to do to be dragging me on like this? I worry if they’re being so difficult up front, will they get WORSE as the date gets closer?!
Editorial Update: After a confrontation with the pastor of this church (in which she told me that non-church-member weddings were very inconvenient), we decided to go with First United Methodist Church in Reno. Yes, it’s a farther drive, but who wants to be married by a grumpy pastor?!
After looking at seven possible reception venues and three churches, we’ve made our decision.
We’re still negotiating with the reception hall, but I can show you pictures of the church we’ve selected. It’s the First United Methodist Church in Carson City. It was built in 1867, and is a small but beautiful church.
I’ve been in eight weddings, but I never realized exactly how much planning and coordinating they require. And I think that I’m only beginning to understand that concept. Right now, we’re juggling availability dates for churches and reception halls. We’re then comparing that to the baby due dates, work, travel, and vacation schedules of key guests. It’s really a challenge. Good thing I’m trained in project management. I think I’m going to be utilizing those skills a lot in the near future.
I’ve found it hard to concentrate lately… It’s this sparkly diamond on my left hand that seems to be constantly distracting me. I could be driving or sitting in a meeting, and I’ll look down and see how the light reflects off of it in so many ways, and I sit there moving my finger around and admiring it.
I definitely need to resist that urge while I’m driving.
I gave a presentation at work yesterday, and afterwards, two women approached me to ask if I was now engaged. Yup, my sparkler caught their eye from across the room.
So it shouldn’t surprise you if you find me staring down at my hand. I’ve never owned a sizable diamond before, and never realized just how beautiful they really are. Staring at it just makes me think of what and who it represents, and then I get all warm and fuzzy inside.
Life is good.
As you can imagine, this week has been all about spreading the news of our engagement. On Monday night, I went over to JB’s house so that we could call the parents together. We started with my parents because they’re in a different time zone.
I decided to toy with them a bit. Every Sunday or Monday, I talk to my parents, and tell them all about what I did that previous weekend. This week, I started out the conversation the same, telling them about JB’s gig on Friday, and then telling them about the hike… How Tucker was carrying around a 6 foot long stick like a true Wonder Dog, and there were all kinds of butterflies… How we had a picinic up at the lake, and oh, yeah, JB proposed to me.
My parents, in unison, said, “HE WHAT?!” They were ecstatic, and Mom later said, “Well it’s about time he got on the ball!” I think that shows just how much my parents like JB, because we’ve only been dating for 9 months.
Inspired by the way I dropped the news on my parents, JB told me he had an even better story for his parents, and he refused to share that story with me before we called them. So with both of us on a phone, JB called his parents, and his mom picked up.
Now his parents knew that he was planning to propose to me, so I assume they thought the call might be to tell them about a proposal.
So then JB says, “I got married, Mom. We went to Downtown Reno yesterday and eloped.”
The funny part about this is that both of us know that it would be a true cardinal sin to both sets of parents if they weren’t involved in the ceremony.
“Joel, no, you didn’t,” his mom said in a very worried tone of voice. Luckily, he didn’t drag that story on too long. So when he changed the story to, “No, we didn’t get married, but I did get engaged,” both of his parents started cheering, “Yeah!” It was absolutely adorable.
Amber’s initial reaction was, “No Sh!t?!” I think she was a bit shocked because she had to wait five years for a proposal from her husband. She kept telling me over the past few months not to be expecting a proposal and get my hopes up. Well, my hopes were up. I really was hoping he would propose! But back to Amber… We then talked about all of the details and how excited we both were, although she said she couldn’t believe I got engaged without her meeting JB. Well, I’m rectifying that this weekend, because Amber is coming out for a visit!
The conversation with Jane was also rather humerous. It went something like this:
L: I have some news for you.
J: *taking in of breath with a slight shreak*
L: Yup.
J: Really?!
L: Yup.
We of course had a conversation that consisted of more than one word at a time, but there was a lot of squealing and sighing on both ends of the phone.
I also received a call from my former manager at GM, who is a really close personal friend. He was super excited, and he also happens to be an ordained minister. He and I have talked for years about how it’d be cool for him to perform the ceremony, so we chatted a bit about those details.
Woo! Is this all really happening?! To me?! I keep telling myself, You’re engaged, because it still doesn’t seem completely real.
But it is, and I’m already knee deep in planning. It’s amazing how quickly life can change, and for the better!
I mentioned yesterday that I have a good story about the hike we took on Sunday, so here it is….
We started our expedition around 2:00 pm. It was a trail we had hiked a few times before, but we knew that 5 miles up the mountain, the trail led to Hobart Reservoir.
The trail is a very steep ascent. It goes straight up for 5 miles, covering about 2,500 vertical feet. It was a lofty goal, but we were prepared with food and water, and ready to make a day of it with the three dogs.
As we were walking up the trail, there were these tiny purple butterflies everywhere — hundreds of them. I mentioned to JB that I had heard that butterflies were symbols of love, as I had a friend that had released butterflies at his wedding.
“Maybe it’s an omen.” JB said as he stopped to kiss me.
Yes, maybe it was.
Two hours after we started the hike, we arrived at the reservoir. It was absolutely beautiful. Since the access to the lake was hike-in only, there were only two other people there. We walked around to the side of the lake with a nice beach and got out our picinic of sandwiches, wine and cheese.
I had thought it was strange that JB had decided to bring his glass wine glasses, but figured he was just being a wine snob when I suggested that we bring paper cups and he said ‘Why would we do that when we have REAL wine glasses?’
So, there we sat on some really big rocks, overlooking a beautiful alpine lake, sipping wine from REAL wine glasses and eating cheese. Next thing I know, JB is telling me that there is another reason why we came up to the lake that day.
And that’s when he whipped out a diamond ring and asked me to marry him.
Let me repeat for you: HE ASKED ME TO MARRY HIM!!!
In other words, WE ARE ENGAGED!
See, those butterflies really were a sign from above.
I am so happy. My dreams have come true. JB is the man I’ve been dreaming of since I was a little girl, and he has come to sweep me off my feet and spend the rest of his life with me. And I couldn’t be happier. I can’t wipe this silly grin off my face, and I also can’t seem to stop staring at my left hand.
The rings were custom designed and made from diamonds that have been in his family for a while. In the picture above, I’m also sporting the wedding band, which I won’t be wearing until we get married.
WE’RE GETTING MARRIED!!!!
Can there really be a happier day? I think not.
But don’t start asking me any details on when and where… Right now we’re basking in the glow of love, and will let you know when we’re able to come down from Cloud 9 long enough to set a date.
I’ve been telling people that I had to work for this shiny diamond on my left hand. It was a 10 mile hike round trip, and the expedition took over 6 hours. But it was well worth it. I get to spend the rest of my life with JB. I couldn’t think of anything in this world that would make me happier.
For those of you that haven’t seen a pic of me with my fiance (I love saying that!!!), here you go:

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