we're going to need to raise those roof beams even higher, carpenters

Our wedding is now less than two weeks away. Today, Dave and I met with our beautiful writing teacher, Vicky, who generously offered us some free classes to write material from which to cull our vows. (She's one of the three muses who will officiate at our wedding.) If any of you are getting married in 12 days, and are beginning to feel the stress, beginning to sweat the colors of the napkins and whatnot, I highly recommend dropping all of your tasks for a couple of hours and sitting down and writing paeans to your beloved instead.

Because now I feel like, who gives a tiny flying shit about which flower is going where? Who needs to freak about about the pear tarts? Nobody does. Nobody needs to.

In 12 days, I'm getting married to a man about whom I have no doubts. I practically married him the minute I met him. I met him in a room full of new people, and his was the first face I saw. Before I even saw any of the others, I decided I liked everybody in that room. It was a split-second thing. They were all instantly grandfathered in on the strength of my first impression of Dave. Anybody remotely associated to that face had to be someone I would endorse.

I'm going to marry that man in front of a group of the most loyal, loving, smart people you could ever meet, many of whom are going to be dropping their insane talents all over the evening.

I got me a peacock blue dress that shaves ten pounds off of me, through no help of my own.

Luck been, and continues to be, a lady to me.