A Frozen Yogurt Prophecy Fulfilled

I knew I wanted to marry him.  I told Smash that once, a long time ago, accidentally, during one of our “wedding nights.” We would drive to the drugstore and purchase at least four absurdly expensive wedding magazines and some frozen yogurt, and then spend the rest of the night passing the tomes full of lacy dresses back and forth between us.

“No WAY!” “Would you EVER?” “He is wearing a grey suit or he is not marrying me, I’ll tell you that much.”

There were no men in our lives, only boys. Boys from college. Boys from work. No one involved was anywhere near ready to commit to adulthood, to promise anything on that scale.

But she showed me some dress, some concoction of frothy, brilliantly white chiffon. “Oh, as IF!”  I squealed. “If I wear that, I’ll look so pale, M won’t even recognize me.”

I didn’t even realize what I had put out into the world, but she slowly lowered her magazine and stared at me, smiling. “You just said it,” she laughed. “You said you’re going to marry him someday!”

She was right.

It took us a long time to get here. There were some patches that rocked my serenity, that made me question whether I was ready, whether the path we shared then would translate into a road we could walk on all the way into the future.

I didn’t need to worry.

Our families taught us what we needed: how to build a home for each other out of love, no matter where we are.

The people we surround ourselves with give us strength and a joy I can’t even begin to quantify.

These loved ones have helped us carve that path that I once wondered about into a road I would follow anywhere.

Baby, I would follow you anywhere.

Sometimes the enormity of what we’ve signed ourselves up for doesn’t hit us until much later.

And when it does, we’re not sure we can ever be grateful enough.

The Key to the Next 8 Days

Yesterday, at brunch M and I were talking about how we’ll handle the billing requirements of life at Major, Lawfirm & Co. when we MOVE BACK TO CALIFORNIA and start working there next October. (3 guesses as to which part of that sentence excites me the most.)

He was planning out his typical day, trying to mentally fit in 8 hours of billable work with inevitable procrastination, gym time, lunch and leaving the office at a human-being-esque hour. Such a planner, this one. But I love it… so much more fun to speculate with him about even the most mundane details of our life-to-be than to devote any more mental energy to the soul-draining existence that is the present moment. (It’s finals. I’m allowed to be melodramatic.)

So, he was all hopped up on the Q about this method for increasing productivity, (“90 minutes of work at a time! You just focus with laser intensity for a hour and a half and then you can do whatever you want for ten minutes. Go to the bathroom! Walk around! Get a coffee to fuel your next intensity binge!”) and I was nodding in total wifely agreement. Best method ever, love. You will be the superhero of timely memos.

BUT! After the amazingness of brunch was over and I was ensconced in the (dreaded, quiet, awful, not-a-coffee-shop) library, I figured  might as well give it a try. One might say that laser focus is not my strong suit, and five days before a final (for a class I have not read for all semester) is not the best time to be sucked into a vortex of blogs and Facebook. And, dude, IT WORKS SO WELL! Apparently winning at tiny contests is what has been missing from my attempts to study. Who knew talking to yourself (“You can totally do this for forty more minutes…twenty…five..GREAT SUCCESS!!”) was the key. So glad to have discovered this vital study skill FIVE MINUTES BEFORE GRADUATION. Just kidding, it’ll be worth it for two more sets of finals. And, you know, my entire career. Whatevs.

Anyway, the whole point of this was to say that I’ve been spending my ten minute rest periods…looking at blogs with cute pictures of babies (c’mon you knew that was coming).

Please observe: http://www.natthefatrat.com/2011/12/how-to-frost-cupcake-sprinkles-way.html

I am subsequently really thinking about my life choices.