A Tale of Two Honeymooners, Part Two-Exploring Deep in the Heart of Texas


 So we arrived in Fredericksburg, Texas [for that adventure, see Part One: Getting There], but we still needed to find our little cottage. From the outside it pretty much looked like a garage, and I wasn't feeling optimistic. 

"This is going to be so lame," I said. "What are we going to do? It's going to be the lamest thing ever."
That's when Jordan "sshed" me and told me to stop being dramatic.
Jordan had chosen this particular cottage off the Fredericksburg B&B website. Apparently Fredericksburg is a popular destination, because there are over one hundred choices for anything from one-room cottages to a house that can sleep twelve people. We went with a one-room cottage option called the Chardonnay Hideaway. 

There was a wooden fence that surrounded the front side of the cottage, and we had a cute little area to sit outside and play cards, which we did on Tuesday night. The weather, I might add, was gorgeous in the evening. 

On Monday night, however, the night we arrived in Fredericksburg, we simply took our stuff to the cottage and relaxed from our long drive. We had gotten a map of the town, so we looked it over while deciding where we wanted to eat. Really, though, I was the one who looked it over, circling places I wanted to make sure we visited; Jordan was watching Sports Center. 

At about 7:15 I ordered a pepperoni pizza from the West End Pizza Co. Immediately after hanging up the phone, I realized that we always ordered pepperoni, and then I bemoaned the fact that we were already becoming a boring married couple. 

That's when Jordan told me to stop being dramatic.

The pizza was pretty good, and we enjoyed hanging out, in our cottage, eating dinner and watching Man vs. Food on the travel channel. 

The next day, Tuesday, was our first full day in Fredericksburg. As part of our B&B package, they'd given us two coupons for a free breakfast at the coffee house called the Greater Grace Christian Coffee House, which we were delighted to find out was within walking distance of our cottage. So we ate there while playing half a game of chess.

Then we walked back across the street to the main thoroughfare, where we found something awesome--the National Museum of the Pacific War.

I was shocked to discover that a major museum had it's home in the middle of South Texas--the reason being that Admiral Nimitz, commander of the Pacific War, lived in Fredericksburg. Seriously, I've been to my share of museums, and this is one of the best. Jordan is a huge WWII history buff and was loving every minute.

The first thing we saw when we walked inside was a huge courtyard with plaques lining the stone walls with pictures and stories in memorial of those who died and in honor of those who had served. 

Then we bought our tickets to actually go inside the museum. It's inside this building, which used to be a hotel owned and operated by Nimitz's grandfather.

That's where we spent the next four and a half hours. To some (even me), the prospect of over four hours inside a museum sounds horrible. But I'll just say that Jordan was having a great time, and that made me have a good time too. Plus, it was actually super interesting reading all the facts leading up to the war, and they had some awesome displays. It's become clear to me over the years that I didn't listen at all in history class, because I had to keep asking Jordan questions and preface each one with, "I know I should know this, but..."

I kept making him take pictures, and when he would sigh I'd say, "When are you ever going to go on a honeymoon again?" That shut him up.

Here's me in front of an atomic bomb replica.

We spent a good deal of time in the gift shop, and Jordan said it was the best museum gift shop he'd ever been in. I guess that explains why I came away with a magnet, and he came away with nothing. 
Wait. That doesn't make sense at all. 

He later said that there was so much awesome stuff, he couldn't decide and thus chose nothing. 

The museum closed at 5:30, and lucky for us, that's just about the time we entered the very last exhibit room. We understood then why the tickets were good for 48 hours. It takes so long to go through, I can see how someone would need two days.

So it was 5:35ish, and we wanted to walk down Main Street and go inside some of the shops that lined both sides of the road. We soon found, however, that every. single. store closed at 5:30. So that was mildly depressing. I had decided earlier that I could not leave Fredericksburg without making a trip to the Fredericksburg pie co. Since it was so close to dinner, we figured we could wait until tomorrow (Wednesday) to get some pie before we headed out of town to San Antonio. 

But upon discovery of the strange early closings of all the shops, I wanted to be certain the pie co. would be open. I had my trusty map, which included addresses and phone numbers to all the shops listed on the map. It was 5:45 by the time I called the pie shop. 

I was soon informed that the shop closed at 6:00 on Tuesday and wasn't open on Wednesdays. 
"That settles it," I said, grabbing Jordan by the arm. "We're getting pie now. I'm so glad I called!"
The pie shop was only a block away, so we made it before they closed, and we each picked out a piece and had the lady put them in a to-go container so we could eat it for dessert later. One thing I love about Fredericksburg is how a lot of the shops are houses. It makes for a homey, country feel.

After depositing our pie in the fridge, we got dressed up and went out to eat at a German restaurant. The first people to build the town way back in the day were Germans, so there are a lot of German restaurants and shops. We got an appetizer of potato skins with cabbage, swiss cheese, and sauerkraut, which was interesting. And then, of course, some sausage. 

After that we went home, played Phase 10 outside, and watched the end of the Thunder game on TV. The only thing we hadn't gotten to do was shop, so that was the plan for Wednesday morning. We needed to check out by 11:00 a.m., and then we hoped shops would be open by then so we could walk around for an hour or two before heading for our next adventure...San Antonio.

We certainly couldn't have predicted what happened on Wednesday as we walked around Fredericksburg. Here's a hint: free lunch and the best store ever. I mean ever.

But I'll save that for Part 3. 

[For Part 1, go here.]

Flashback Friday--The Aisle


Eighteen days ago (which was four days before my wedding), I wrote about how I was excited to walk down the aisle with my dad. Then it happened, and we walked. We stood at the front, and my dad kissed me on the cheek and gave me away. 

And while I tried not to cry, I thought about how it was everything I'd imagined. 
That's when I started to cry a little bit. 

Then Jordan took my arm, and I felt safe and happy and more excited then I'd ever felt about anything. It was exactly like I'd imagined.

Before I knew it, Jordan had kissed me, and I was walking back up the aisle on my husband's arm. 

 And it was better than anything I could have imagined.

Linking up with Tia for Flashback Friday!

For Future Reference. . .


Your wedding isn't the best time to get your first manicure. If, however, you do get a manicure and decide to choose French tips, make sure it's no more than three days before your wedding. Two, if you can help it. French tips don't stay on very long.

Unless you're one of those superstitious types, take pictures with the groom before the ceremony. It makes you much less nervous and as an added bonus, you can get all those boring posed shots out of the way, leaving time for fun ones with the bridal party after the ceremony is over.

Walk slowly when you come down the aisle and when you leave. You'll want to rush in...and then out again, but don't. It's awkward with a hundred or so people just staring at you, but do you really want a blurry picture? Think about it.

Practice your first kiss. This wasn't something I'd thought about until one of my bridesmaids asked me: Have you guys practiced your kiss? Umm, no we haven't. We've kissed before, so I'm not sure what you mean. Turns out, it was a good thing we did, and even then (based on the pictures I've seen from my friends) we ended up with an awkward twisted hand thing, which sort of bums me out but whatever. Also, think about how long you're going to hold the kiss; again, it's awkward when people are just staring at you, so if you're like me, your urge will be to pull away immediately. Jordan and I decided on three seconds (counting Mississippily), which we announced to everyone during our rehearsal. #1 funny moment of the ceremony was when our pastor counted to three as we kissed. You probably won't need to be that insane, though. We're an odd pair.

Wear something cute to rehearsal. If you're like me, you'll consider being that awesome girl who tells everyone to wear jeans and T-shirts. But then your mom will convince you to buy a cute dress, and you'll thank her later. (Hypothetical situation; that is not what happened to me.) There will be pictures taken, and when will you actually have another wedding rehearsal in your life? Never. So go big and buy a cute dress. 

If you and your bridesmaids are all getting their hair done, make sure you do your (the bride's) hair first. This was something my photographer suggested, and I am sure glad I listened to her. When she arrived to start taking pictures, I was ready to go, and it wasn't that big of a deal that my girls still needed to finish up while I took some solo shots.

Don't wear your garter all day. It's sorta itchy. Instead, put it on right before the garter part of the reception. However, don't forget about the garter part until it's upon you and then have to hike up your dress while your bridesmaids form a curtain around you so you don't flash everyone. (Again, hypothetical situation.)

Important: DON'T worry about getting your dress dirty. You'll only be wearing it once, so live it up. If your photographer wants to take pictures of you in a dusty wheat field, do it. (Can't wait to see those pictures!) If people step on the hem, tell them not to worry. Bottom line: just don't get stressed out.

Print out a copy of a detailed itinerary for the DJ. Give it to someone responsible who will be at the reception, and let them handle keeping everything on schedule. This should not be something you have to worry about. 

People really do like chocolate cake.

Don't leave for your honeymoon the very next day if you can avoid it. Jordan and I left for ours on Monday, and it was super nice to have an entire day on Sunday just to hang out. We opened some wedding gifts, played a game, watched a movie, and it was great. A relaxing way to begin the honeymoon and married life. 

When you're on your honeymoon, tell everyone. You might get free/discounted stuff. When we checked in to the hotel in San Antonio, we mentioned that it was our honeymoon. They sent us up two boxes of chocolate (there was actually a funny mix up; we were only supposed to get one. Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Hampton) as well as a bottle of champagne. When we went to Sea World, I told the cashier it was our honeymoon, and she gave us each the child price. Saved us $20. Woot! (Note: this doesn't work at Jamba Juice. They still charged me full price for my smoothie, those jerks.)

So there you go...a few tips from me to you. Not that I can claim to be any kind of expert, but still. Tips are always helpful.

A Tale of Two Honeymooners, Part One-Getting There


After the wedding festivities were over, Jordan and I left a mess in our apartment and headed South. First stop, Fredericksburg, Texas. On my aunt's recommendation, we decided to look into a bed and breakfast in this little town deep in the heart of Texas. (And I'm not just saying that. We really did drive through the heart of Texas.)

It was actually the perfect place to stay, and we had a lot of fun. Our two days in Fredericksburg actually ended up being our favorite of the week. First, though, we had to gas up.

Then, we headed for Texas, where I failed at my attempt to take a picture of the "Welcome to Texas" sign. For some reason Jordan couldn't stop laughing about this.

My GPS took us down back roads for the entire seven-hour drive, and the view was fabulous. Texas hill country is just spectacular, and if you haven't seen it, you're missing out. However, the downside of the ridiculously beautiful view is the lack of proper civilization. Which means lack of proper fast-food restaurants. Which, due to lack of proper planning, means two hungry honeymooners.

And you really don't want to be around Jordan when he's hungry. It's as if a switch has been turned on, and my only goal is to not say anything that might enrage him. This is hard when you fear you might be lost in The Middle of Nowhere, Texas. (read: I am a semi-annoying backseat driver, especially when Jordan is driving my car.) We kept waiting to see something, anything, that would give us food. But apparently all the towns in South Texas are full of boarded up restaurants and banks. No food. Where do all the people eat? Maybe that's why we also didn't see any people--they'd eaten each other.

With that happy thought, we became more and more grouchy. The first sight of food came at 2:00ish, which might not seem all that bad unless you consider the fact that in our haste to drop off our marriage license and get on the road, we'd forgotten to eat breakfast.

I was nearing the point of panic when I saw a beacon of light. It was a grocery store.

"STOP!" I yelled. 
But Jordan had already driven past. 
I made him turn around, rambling something about a deli and sandwiches and food, claiming that I'd eat anything at this point. (Important note: I would die before I ate Chicken Express.) We ended up buying some fried chicken from the deli, and it was the freaking best chicken I'd ever eaten. I devoured a leg in under a minute, while Jordan feverishly stuffed fries into his mouth. 

When we'd collected ourselves long enough to stop drooling, we headed back down the road. We turned the corner maybe a quarter of a mile from the grocery store and groaned. They were in a cluster, mocking us--Sonic, Dairy Queen, and McDonald's.

"Whatefer," I said around a mouthful of biscuit.

So we continued on our merry way.
At one point while I was trying to sleep, Jordan's keen eye caught a sign. How he noticed it and was able to read it while driving at over sixty miles an hour is beyond me.
"I think we just passed a historical marker."
"Oh yeah? What was it?"
"Not exactly sure," he said. "Something about the center of Texas. Wanna go back?"

Never one to turn down a photo op, of course I said yes.
Sure enough, just over halfway through our journey we hit the geographic center of Texas. I told you; we were deep in the heart of Texas.

After that, we stopped for gas once, but other than that it was smooth sailing. We basically saw no cars, people, restaurants (except for that one small cluster), and it was a relaxing, beautiful drive. We (really just I) did get a bit worried near the end, because the GPS said we were supposed to be there at 5:22, and it was 5:20, and I didn't see any semblance of a town. 

I was hoping our GPS hadn't been hacked by a serial killer who was leading us into a trap. Then I realized I was being dramatic and needed to calm down. I told myself that I had a husband who would gladly attack said serial killer should it come to that. 

By the time I was finished thinking about serial killers and husbands (read: NOT serial killer husbands), it was 5:22, and a cute, bustling town was upon us. (Side note: When we pulled into town, I exclaimed, "What a cute, bubbling town!" Jordan said, "Don't you mean bustling?" Yes, I do. I'm an idiot. The chicken went straight to my head.)

We were supposed to pick up the key to our little cottage from the reservations desk by 5:30, and we rolled in there at exactly 5:26. We paid the rest of our balance, got our keys, picked up a map, and headed for the final destination: The Chardonnay Hideaway. (Honeymoon requirement for B&B: Cheesy name? Check.)

Check back for Part Two of A Tale of Two Honeymooners

Something Fun


I really wanted to have one of those photo booth things at the reception. Something where people could go and take pictures and make funny faces. I was, therefore, quite annoyed to find out that it costs a chunk of change to rent a photo booth for a wedding. I'm talking a few thousand dollars for a couple of hours.

Luckily, my dad is creative and resourceful and ended up downloading a program someone smart had created for a Mac computer that could simulate a photo booth. It takes three pictures and then prints them out in a strip like the kind you'd get at the mall. All the pictures are automatically saved to the computer, and my dad burned me a copy of the disc with all the individual pictures. There are some awesome shots, and from the looks of it, people had a lot of fun. This was a stress factor for my dad, who almost couldn't get it to work the day of.

But it did and it was awesome, and now I have over 350 photos. Here are just a few...

And I can't leave out this one. I don't know what's going on with Jordan's face, but it isn't good.

How to Avoid Hitches When You're Gettin' Hitched


Jordan and I at the rehearsal dinner on Friday night
In the days to come (maybe weeks depending on how detailed I want [or you want me] to get), I will be posting pictures, sharing stories, and otherwise delighting you with tales from my wedding day. 

But let me just say that basically, it was perfect. My wedding vision came true in every detail, and I spent the entire day feeling so very blessed by the friends and family who came to celebrate with us, some of whom traveled thousands of miles. 
People always say that you should expect things to go wrong--after all, nothing can be completely right. And yes, there were a few slight mishaps, but overall I can't say there were any major catastrophes. 

This happened for six main reasons (in no particular order):

My mother. Unfortunately, you can't all have as awesome of a mother as me, but the point is that you need to find someone to plan the wedding with--someone who's a great organizer and who doesn't mind talking to a lot of different people and asking what might be perceived as a stupid question. Asking potentially stupid questions will allow you to cover all your bases and know what you're in for in any given situation. This is reason #1 why my wedding was such a success. (Note: I say the wedding was a success; ask someone who was there and they might disagree, but I think any average human would say the same as I do.)

My friends. Even though you can't pick your mother, you can pick your friends, so choose wisely. These people will be the ones to carry you through the weekend and make it fun or...not fun. These people will dance with you (or, in my case, get Jordan to dance, which is an amazing miracle), laugh with you, take pictures throughout the weekend, and celebrate with you, which will make you feel special and loved. Bonus: if you pick good-looking friends, all your pictures will look twice as awesome. 

My family. Besides my mom--who, as I said, was insanely helpful--my dad, sister, and brothers were so great as well. When my mom needed advice, they were the ones she turned to. When something needed to be done, they did it with smiles on their faces. I am so happy to have had Sarah, Daniel, and Austin as part of the wedding party, and I am so thankful to have them in my life. They make things fun, and I had no worries about the reception being a good time if they were there.

A few chosen helpers. Mine were my three aunts and my mom's longtime friend Ann (who was my mom's maid of honor circa 1982). But whether or not you have aunts and a childhood family friend isn't the point. Find at least three (four if you can) intelligent, competent people who are creative, helpful, and not afraid to give and/or take directions when necessary. These people can be given tasks, and you can depend on them to follow through exactly. For my mom and I, these people were lifesavers. My aunt Mindy helped design the table centerpiece arrangements back when we were in the planning phase. Aunts Kim, Kathy, and Mindy all threw me a bridal shower in Illinois, and all three were at the reception hall early in the morning on Saturday to get things set up. Ann was invaluable during the reception itself, telling people when it was their turn to get food; and because I had given her a copy of the reception itinerary (times for dances, tosses, cake cutting, etc.), she was able to make sure the DJ stayed on schedule. 

This book: The Knot Book of Wedding Lists. By the end of it all, Jordan was sick and tired of hearing about what "the book" said. But really, this thing was a lifesaver. It had all sorts of handy tips and lists of weird things that I might not have thought of on my own. As a rule, I don't like buying books like this, but it was extremely helpful to me, and I'd definitely recommend it.

My ability to keep secrets. After an initial blowup way back in the beginning of our engagement, I decided it would be a better idea if I didn't tell Jordan anything. Not prices, not colors, not table settings--nothing unless it directly involved him or he specifically asked. Looking back, I can see that this was a fantastic choice. That way, on the day of the wedding, there really wasn't much extra to be nervous about (for him), because he didn't know what to expect. At the reception, he kept saying things like, "I didn't know it was going to be like that..." When asked if he would have wanted to know, he said it was better he didn't. (Things like the head table being at the front of the room on a raised platform or the church decorations.) And really, it wasn't necessary that he know. It isn't that it was all a secret per say, but I think just keeping wedding details on a need-to-know basis helped out in the end because there weren't a lot of people who knew how it was "supposed" to go, so no one knew if things went wrong. 

So there it is. So many people contributed to my day being special, beautiful, and going off without any (major) hitches. I tried to stay "in the moment" as much as possible, and the superior planning of my mom and I, along with the helpful recommendations of friends for photographers, cake bakers, and florists, led to a fun, relaxing day.

I will definitely be posting more soon, but if you have any specific questions or things you for sure want me to write about, let me know either in a comment or email.

Note: Again, you can't completely avoid hitches, but taking preventative measures in the form of solid planning and competent helpers is a must.

The Final Stages


This morning, Jordan a few hours off work, and we got this (note: us both wearing red was not planned):

Just in case you were wondering, the desk for getting a marriage license is right next to the desk for divorces. Maybe to remind sad people of what was and happy people of what could be if they aren't serious about getting serious.

Jordan and I didn't even make it all the way up to the desk before a women walked toward us and said, "Marriage license?"
I laughed. "Are we that obvious?"
She smirked. "All you guys are."

Made me wonder if the person running the next desk over could say the same thing.

We filled out a bunch of papers, and I found out that to change my middle name from Ellen to Reese, I have to pay $120 to file with a lawyer. The only thing I can do on a marriage license is change my last name. Well crap.

It only cost us $5 to get our license instead of $50 because we'd gone through pre-marital counseling. I guess $45 isn't worth it to some people, but I personally think everyone should go through counseling anyway, even if you don't get a discount--which you do, so my point is irrelevant.

I signed my new name on the paper, and it was weird. Bumgarner has only four more letters than Reese, but it seems like it takes forever to write.

When we left the courthouse, I made Jordan stand outside and take a picture. He got horribly embarrassed, but when I reminded him that we will only do this once in our lives, he said, "All right," in a resigned tone and dutifully took his place outside the courthouse sign. He's such a trooper, that guy.



Yes, four days is all I have to enjoy the single life. 

Clearly I need to amp up the excitement. On Saturday night I went to bed at 9:00. Apparently I'm already an old boring married person, and honestly, that's okay with me. 

Tonight Jordan's parents are taking him out to dinner. I think they're getting all sentimental that their firstborn son is growing up, moving out, and getting married. Of course, we're just a few miles down the road, and Jordan and I don't have cable, so it's not like we aren't still planning on popping over uninvited to watch a baseball game or something. 

There are a lot of things I'm excited about for this weekend, but I keep coming back to one: standing in the back of the church and having my dad hold out his arm to me. I'll take it, and we'll start walking down the aisle. My dad's not one to like serious moments, so my mom's already warned me that he'll probably try to make a joke at some point, which will hopefully keep me from crying, because my face gets unattractively red when I cry. 

Today is my last day of work for this week, and thank goodness, because I can hardly concentrate. Tonight I'm going to finish up some last-minute shopping, and then tomorrow I'll clean the apartment, go for one last hair trial, pick up the marriage license, and then wait for two of my bridesmaids to arrive. 

After that, it's going to be crazy busy, so you probably won't hear from me until I get back from the honeymoon. And then... 

Jordan and I will have to figure out who's sleeping on which side of the bed.
What time we each need to get up in the morning to get ready for work. 
When we prefer going to sleep at night. 
What station the radio will be set to for the alarm: music or news?
How we're going to attempt to keep the closet organized.
Who's doing what household chore.

And these are only the things I'm thinking off the top of my head.

No one really talks about this. I mean, I've heard it said that getting married is quite an adjustment, but no one actually says, "This and this and this were big things we hadn't thought about before." 

But it's happening, and I'm ready to think and write and focus on something other than the wedding, although I know I'll probably miss it once it's over. It's been months of planning and a lot of hard work. And now it's here. Wedding week. In four...

On Being Engaged and Getting Married


A week from yesterday, my friends and family will start arriving. Each day leading up to Saturday, May 14, I will be joined by those closest to me. 

It's going to be crazy and insane and quick. Really quick. 

So while I have a free moment (which hasn't happened often as of late), I wanted to write down a few thoughts about being engaged, because I'm interested to see how my perception may or may not change in just over a week from now.

A few days ago, my alarm clock went off, I opened my eyes, stretched, and immediately was hit with what I described to my friend Audra as a "small feeling of intense panic." 

Holy crap, I thought. I'm going to live with a boy. A BOY. 

I'll be honest here and say that I have no idea how this is going to go. Sometimes I imagine it going well--us making dinner and watching a baseball game on TV or a movie from Netflix. Other times I picture a different scene--me going crazy and being, well, me, and Jordan wondering what on earth he's gotten himself into. Either way, we're stuck together.

While Jordan and I were dating, I never really allowed myself to think about getting married. I didn't want to hurt more if we broke up. I realize this is silly, and you can't completely guard yourself from pain, but talking or thinking about marriage just wasn't something we did often. But now that I am 9 days away from the marriage ceremony, I suppose I should start seriously thinking about it. 

I'm used to Jordan going home at night. I'm used to calling him to see if we're going to eat dinner at his place or mine. I'm used to having the entire closet to myself. I'm used to coming home after work and having time (however short) to myself to sit in silence or turn the radio up loud or just do whatever I feel like. And I'm not trying to say that I think once I'm married I won't be able to do what I want, but it's just going to be different.

Being engaged, for me at least, has changed our relationship. Instead of dating, moving along through the calendar together, making occasional hypothetical comments about a vague "future," we're moving toward something--a concrete place of stability. Yet the engagement is a waiting period, and it's been difficult because I haven't been able to really get my things organized or plan anything past May. I'm sort of in limbo.

A friend recently joked with me that I'm acting like the world is going to stop on May 14. And while I don't at all believe comments about how my life won't truly start until I get married or that my life isn't complete until I find "the one," being engaged has placed a firm date in my future--one that I am still unable to look past. One that will change me in ways I can't know right now. And that scares me a little bit, but it's also exciting. It's like graduating, I think. The idea of being free from the restraints of school and homework was so strange that I was unable to fathom what that would be like. It scared me, but it was also exciting.

And now that I've been out of school for a few years, I can look back and say that it's been great--strange and difficult at times, yes, but I'm doing it. 

I'm sure that's what marriage will be like for me. I realize this probably all sounds a bit silly to someone who's married or even just someone who doesn't think about things like I do. But this is how I feel about it, and later I'll look back and hopefully be able to say that it's great, though strange and difficult, and that I'm doing it.

To me, marriage isn't something that offers a way out. I don't want to become a statistic, and it scares me that there is no guarantee that it will work out. But I can say that I want to commit to Jordan, and honestly I believe he's the person I'm supposed to be with. I want to work with him on our marriage and never have the D word even be something we mention in our house. 

I'm not idealistic enough to think it won't be hard. I don't imagine us floating away on a cloud together. Our relationship has been hard, and we've fought and argued and had to deal with difficult circumstances. But I've learned so much about Jordan and about myself, and I feel confident in us

I'm weird. Random. Awkward. Loud. Social. Competitive. Impatient. Emotional. Some might say crazy.

And he gets me.

He's quiet. Introverted. A thinker. Slight procrastinator. Stubborn. Problem solver. Sometimes unreadable. 

And I get that.

I can't wait for my friends and family to come celebrate with me. Many of them will meet Jordan for the first time, and there will be people from his side that I've never met before. I'll wear my dress, and he'll wear his tux, and we'll smile for pictures and eat cake. We'll dance and laugh, and in the end we'll drive away together.

I'm looking forward to it with only a small feeling of intense panic. Because holy CRAP. I'm getting married. And then I'm going to live with a BOY.

Makin' Me Crazy (The Wedding Version)


It started with a pair of black hoop earrings.

Jordan and I were over at our pastor's house for our last pre-marital counseling session, sitting with Ryan and his wife, having an only slightly awkward conversation about the birds and the bees. I was sitting on the couch, and I remember taking my earrings off because they were hurting my ears.

I could have sworn I put them in my purse, but when I went home I couldn't find them anywhere. I checked my jean pockets and the pockets of my coat and every other pocket I could think of. Nothing.

Resigned to my earringless fate, I signed and decided they would turn up eventually.

It continued with a card.

Last week, Jordan came over to the apartment and brought a few wedding gifts that had arrived at his parents' house earlier that day. I picked up one of the boxes and found a green rectangle underneath. Inside was a card that Jordan had picked up for me earlier that day. It was super cute and sweet and all that, and after I read it I put it on the table and turned to open the wedding presents.

Later that night, I went into the kitchen to find the card. I looked on the counter, the table, checked in all the boxes. Nothing. Then I looked through the trash, which didn't yield any results. I went to bed sad and annoyed that the card had seemingly disappeared into thin air! When Jordan came over the next day, I made him look for the card too, but he eventually determined that it was gone. 

I was supposed to make cinnamon rolls with a friend the next morning, and as I was getting into bed, I remembered that I had told my friend I would check the ingredient list and let her know if she needed to bring anything. When I pulled out my cookbook and opened to the cinnamon roll page, I found a green rectangle. Yes, it was the card. Sitting calmly in a painfully obvious place that wasn't really obvious at all.

Something was going on. I'm really not one to lose things, and I usually can remember where I put my stuff.

It ended with keys. 

Last night Jordan and I drove over to a friend's house for wing night. When I got out of my car, I locked it and put the keys in my purse. Or so I thought. A few hours later, as we walked back to the car, I told Jordan that I couldn't find my keys.

We looked in my purse. In Kyle's apartment. I looked through the trash for the second time that week. My keys were nowhere. Luckily, Jordan has a key to my car, so we we could at least drive home. On the way, we called everyone who was at Kyle's to see if they somehow had taken my keys. No one did.

Jordan was pretty annoyed, but for some reason I wasn't super upset. I felt sure they would turn up, and if they didn't, we'd just have to get duplicates made.

He dropped me off, and I went inside (I borrowed Jordan's key to the apt). Then I decided to check my purse one more time.

I held it up, shook it, and heard the soft jingle of keys. Knowing I had a bottle of pills, six dice, and loose change also in my purse, I didn't think too much about the jingle. But as I continued to remove items from my purse (something, I might add, I'd done earlier), the jingle didn't fade. Finally, I looked inside and noticed a pocket that was zippered shut. I opened it, and there were my keys.

How embarrassing. After calling my friends, making them look through their pockets and purses, my lost keys were with me all along.

I called Jordan to tell him, and he laughed at me. "What is happening?" he asked. "This isn't like you."
And that's the point. This isn't like me at all. What the heck?

Then, today at church, our pastor came over to me after the service. "Hey, did you leave a pair of earrings at our house?"

I couldn't even respond; I just stared at him for a second before saying (rather loudly): "Yes! Yes I did. I lost three things this week. Good grief."
"Well," he replied, "you've got a lot on your mind."

Yes, yes I do. But I had no idea how much it was affecting my ability to behave like a normal person. Apparently a lot.

UPDATE 5/01: Jordan lost his checkbook. I looked through the trash (again) and in my car and all over the apartment. I found it this morning in my car. So not only are we misplacing things at an alarming rate, but we're stupid while looking for the aforementioned misplaced items. Gah!