Hesitated on doing this, but I’m going to go for it.
Here’s a photo of me on my wedding day.
I actually *felt* pretty that day. It’s so rare I feel something like that down to my bones, but I did on my wedding day.
That’s a happy memory I’ll carry with me always.
Having professional hair, makeup and photographer helps A LOT.
But I’m just proud of this, so I’ll share.
I’m just going to say it. The Olympics. MASSIVE disappointment.
Ok, not the games themselves. No. The coverage. NBC should be shot……and their little dog Bob Costas too.
I have twice now…just twice, sat down to watch coverage during “prime time” hours.
Once was Thursday. As soon as it came on, The Good Man said, “Is Bob Costas sick or something? He looks pale.”
No. Not sick. Just over made up, I think.
We tried to watch it but it was hard. The commercials. The interstitials. The “back story”. The over focus on one athlete to the detriment of the others. The cutting away from beach volleyball just when it was finally getting GOOD. Ugh.
We did get to see Phelps and “the touch” that launched another gold medal.
And we saw a Swiss volleyballer throw a hissy fit.
And some track and field ladies who kick butt.
But it was SO hard to watch.
Second try was last night. As soon as I turned it on The Good Man said, “Is Bob Costas sick or something? He looks pale.”
No. Still not sick. Just bad coverage.
Best line comes from Jim Baca on his blog Only in New Mexico:
“We watched the Olympics last night, or should I say the commercials on NBC which were interrupted by competition once in a while.”
I tried to watch. I really did. But ended up switching over to MythBusters instead.
I remember watching the Olympics when I was a kid. It was all about the athletes. About the competition. About this amazing every four year event showcasing the best of the best.
Now it’s Chinese government coverups, overblown corporate sponsorships, and focus on the most “media ready” athletes.
Depressing.
…rest assured The Good Man and me are doing juuuust fine.
I could get used to this honeymooning thing…
Photo by Karen Fayeth
Probably time to tell folks that I’ve been convalescing for some time trying very hard to recover from a difficult affliction.
It strikes mostly women between the ages of 18 to 50. The numbers for this disorder are steadily on the rise, if you can believe the press.
It causes pain around the heart area, headaches and chronic pain in the arse.
It is the topic of talk shows, magazine covers and water cooler conversations ’round the world as women band together to defeat this terrible, terrible suffering.
What is this troubling ailment?
Chronic Single-itis.
Yes, folks, I’m pleased to tell you that as of today, I’ve gone into complete remission.
And I guess now The Cute Boy is The Cutest Husband. Or he can just remain The Good Man, I suppose…
(P.S. I couldn’t *be* happier!)
Had the opportunity yesterday to pick up my finally finished wedding dress.
This custom made dress purchase has been an odd experience, but in the end, I think it will be lovely. Most importantly, it’s DONE.
At the end of the fitting appointment, they placed a long zippered bag into my arms and sent me on my way.
I rode the creaky elevator down holding the dress out from my body like a sick child, careful not to bump or soil it.
I stepped out onto the street in San Francisco, headed to find The Good Man.
As I waited for the light to turn so I could cross a busy intersection, I had crystal moment of realization.
Look at me, here now. How did I get here?
I’m walking in Union Square in the glorious and tony San Francisco, holding before me my custom made WEDDING dress.
How did this little insecure girl from New Mexico end up here?
Amazing how far I’ve come. I’m proud of me.
As I crossed the street, my eyes searched out the The Good Man. I found him, leaning against a wall, looking more handsome than ever. And I started crying.
Happy tears. Relief.
I don’t know how I got so lucky. I’m just so grateful I did.