If you read that title and recognized that it was the wedding march then you've probably been to as many weddings as I have (five this year to be exact). I feel like I've been a contestant in Four Weddings: judging who had the best dress, the best setup, the best food, etc.
On Saturday night, my roomate got married. And of course being her roomate means being one of the beck-and-call girls. Which I'm happy to do because I love organizing, planning, and putting something together. I should be a professional organizer like you see on Hoarders. Not really, I'd probably end up lighting a fire and burning all of the shit down so I wouldn't have to deal with funk funk smells, cat corpses, and emotional attachments to Cabbage Patch kids.
This wedding was very mellow. There was no walking down the aisle, there were no gifts, no first dance, none of that. As my roomie said, "We're just gonna go up there, say our howdy-do's and call it a day." That's my kind of wedding.
The reception was very lovely. It was hosted out in the woods at this lady's house who is one of my Aunt's clients. The hostess could talk a blue streak but had a very nice house and a sweet horse named Dixie that she said I could come ride whenever I wanted.
Mama, Auntie, and I don't know why I'm holding her bouquet- I promise that doesn't have any symbolism or premonitions attached to it.
New uncle. He's nice, I like him.
Naturally, the question everyone had for me was, "What are you going to do when she moves??" That's a good question, one that I haven't worked out yet. I've still got about two months.
That was the generic response.
Truthfully, I'm not sure if I should try to find a place to rent here or live with Mama in the hometown. That would be a bit of a drive every day so I'm not sure if it would even out with the price of gas versus the price of renting. I would love love love to get out of here, but everything in it's time and I think that will be coming soon enough.
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