Y’all. Seriously. I haven’t written since November? I have serious issues.

Thank you to AE and Erin for pointing out that I’m the blogging world’s biggest loser. And for asking me to write again.

I’ve been gone so long that I forgot my WordPress password and nearly locked myself out for eternity. (Sidenote: thank you to my iphone’s autocorrect function that helpfully changed “locked” to “licked.”)

(Cause that wouldn’t have made me look weird at ALL).

I’ve also been gone so long that I neglected to approve a comment from a sweet gal at Compassion who asked me to update a linky (auto correct: kinky) on my sidebar. I’ve also been gone too long to remember how to do that. So I promise to get to it!

And just in case you’re wondering, I’ve been married for a little over 4 months now. In that time, I’ve learned some valuable lessons, such as:

- Turning down the brightness on your iPhone will not prevent your husband from waking up and catching you checking Facebook at 1:14am. Even if you had strategically pulled the sheet over your head.

- Just because you are perfectly fine wearing mismatched socks (who really sees them anyway?), doesn’t mean your husband is. Which means he also might not appreciate–nay, he may loathe–digging through the “socks without a life partner” basket to see what combos can be made.

- It is possible that your husband will enjoy eating at the dinner table instead of sitting on the couch with food trays watching Entertainment Tonight. If this is the case, greenlight to blame his mother for bringing him up civilized.

- You might think you can stay awake long enough at night to finally catch your husband snoring. Be careful. It’s 99.999% likely to be the 55 pound dog curled behind your knees sawing logs.

- If your husband leans into your cheek in the middle of church and says you smell like sweet potato casserole, get rid of your sunless face tanner. YESTERDAY.

-

So yesterday as I was walking down the stairs after work, my right high heel caught in my left pant (trouser?) leg.  I’m not sure if I can accurately describe the terror one feels when one is talking on an iPhone one second, and then diving head first down the stairs holding her purse in one hand, and a laptop, 2 dirty coffee mugs, a makeup bag and an empty tupperware container in another.

My entire professional career flashed before my eyes.

And things like this went through my head during 1.3 second fall:  what will I look like when I land? Will it hurt?  I hope the puffy parka I’m wearing will absorb some of the force of the fall or else why did I buy a coat  that took the lives of 36 Canadian geese? Who gets her high heel and her pant leg tangled like this?  It’s like someone tied my ankles together.  Why did I wear these high heels anyway?  Is anyone watching me right now? Should I let the iPhone drop and try to grab the railing?  Why don’t things like this ever happen to my husband?

Anyway.

I’m fine.

The pant leg and the high heel decided to stop making out about 2 seconds before I broke every bone in my body.

But it was a close call.  I’m just sayin.

I have been married for 18 days.

18 days ago I was doing this:

And then after that, all the wedded bliss comes. In the form of this:

And this.

And again.

And then we returned from our honeymoon.

And did this.

And this.

And this.

And I would write more.  But it’s 10PM and my husband, bless his soul, cannot sleep with me “clicking loudly,” as he told me last night. Ahem.

What’s that you say? She hired a personal trainer to get her in shape for the wedding? Who would do such a thing?

R’s fiance. That’s who.

Because let’s be honest, McDonald’s and My Metabolism have been in cahoots to sabotage my big day ever since I got engaged.

So R and I hired personal trainer Satan Ann to help us get in shape.

(And let’s be honest, R doesn’t really need her. Case in point: the other night while I struggled through 30 God-forsaken minutes on the cardio machine, he breezed through lifting weights and then hopped on the treadmill all chipper-like.  Nice).

And we couldn’t just hire any trainer.  No sirreee.  Ashley had to find the person who trains female bodybuilders for competition.  Go big or go home, people.

So tomorrow we start our 2 hours with Ann.  I predict she’ll measure my percentage of body fat, I’ll cry, body slam her six times in my head, and then she’ll tell me to suck it up and start the cardio machine while she works up a “nutrition” plan that entails eating celery and dirt for the next 6 weeks.

The she’ll look @ R and tell him “you’re doing just fine.”

Stay tuned.

I’m 109% sure that I’ve asked every person on my guest list for their mailing address–at least twice–after they already gave it to me.

I’m 6 shades of wedding crazy right now.

What’s your name? Are you on my guest list? You are? What’s your address? You sent it to me last week? I didn’t see it. We talked about it? Oh. What’s your name, again? Who am I?

Me:  Baby, do you want a prenuptial?

R:  For all your debt?

Me:  Touche.

R:  Actually, no.  Because I’ll need you to pay for all my debt, too.

Me:  Fair enough.

+++

Me:  Baby, I need you to ask the maintenance guy about fixing my bathroom fan.

R:   I’m not man of the house yet

Me:  Yes you are. You take out my trash already.

• Every morning I usually have to return to my apartment for something I forgot on my way out the door–about 4 seconds after I get in my car.
• It’s usually my beast of a travel makeup bag.  Which I haven’t unpacked since the last trip I took.  A month ago.
• I usually don’t put my makeup on until at least an hour after I’m at work because my allergies are so bad in the morning.  And because I like the extra 15 minutes of sleep.
• If you are a hugger or someone who puts her arm on me when you’re talking, I like you instantly. I have zero personal space.  I might kiss you.  Which is why I loved New Jersey.  They greet you with kisses. And then flip you off. But whatever.
• I go to McDonald’s at least once when R–otherwise known as  Borderline Organic Food Snob Man–is out of town.
• I love, love, love to snuggle my dog in her face. Her ears have a particular smell that I like.  Don’t judge.
• Emma (my dog) can make me feel a little better if I sit with her when I’m sad.
• I cannot sleep well at night if Emma isn’t curled up behind my knees.
• I really, really like people.
• But I really, really, love meeting new people.
• Except I have to fight instant anger when I meet people who don’t like Emma.  Or won’t pet her.  As in–you might not get a Christmas card from me.
• I love when I get so busy at work that I am running around from cubicle to cubicle having to talk to people. Sitting at my desk for too long drives me insane.
• Someone took my chair from my cubicle the other day and I noticed that people don’t stay as long to talk to me anymore.  I’m going to find that chair tomorrow.
• One of the best feelings is when I can pray with someone immediately after they say, “please keep me in your prayers.”  My friend B taught me that the best time to pray for someone is right now.
• I am notoriously bad about phone calls.  It’s one of the things I most hate about myself.  I can love you to pieces and not call you for a month.  I’m working on this–all the time.
• I have spent 29 years biting my nails and I’m pretty sure they’ll give up growing at some point.
• One of my greatest fears in life is throwing up without having my dad to hold back my hair for me.  I hate throwing up.  I have issues.
• I had my heart broken in the most profound way possible in 2004.  I have never, and will never, be the same person I was back then.
• Sometimes I just sit back and marvel at how it might be impossible for my best friend K to be any more wonderful and godly and loving than she is.
• I am notoriously bad about leaving my clothes in the washer and dryer–for days.  Don’t judge.
• Every night when I come home my fridge makes an annoying buzzing sound and so I beat it with the frozen chocolate ice cream container in my freezer because it’s the only thing that makes it stop buzzing–and because I hate chocolate ice cream.
• R loves chocolate anything. Even shoes. (I kid. He hasn’t tried them yet).
• Sometimes I’ll be sitting at my cubicle and feel overwhelmed with love for my coworkers because we make such a good team.  So much of my effectiveness depends on them.
• I like to sit around and laugh with my coworkers about all the hate mail we get. It’s a good release.
• If I didn’t have my coworkers, the hate mail would bother me more.
• One of the qualities I appreciate the very most about my dad is that he seems to always think of me before himself and there has not been a time that I can remember where he hasn’t been available–and wanted to–spend time with me just talking.
• The single greatest spiritual growth time in my life so far was when I attended Sovereign Grace of Fairfax, Virginia from 2005-2007.
• I think I have developed a slight addiction to Starbucks’ ham sandwiches. I don’t really drink their coffee.
• I feel most productive at night.
• I totally and completely hate the mornings.  And then I feel guilty.  Cause I’m pretty sure there’s a Bible verse about how good it is to rise early and praise the Lord.  Didn’t the Proverbs 31 lady do that?
• I have a love-hate relationship with the Proverbs 31 lady.
• I love that R can put most anything together.
• I love that R can cook and encourages me to learn.
• I have always, desperately wanted porcelain veneers on my teeth.
• The 16th anniversary of the death of my grandfather–whom I loved more than anything–is tomorrow, July 24.

Me:  Baby, I really have enjoyed pretty much doing whatever I want to for the last 29 years.  I might miss that.  A little.

R:  Really?

Me:  Yeah.   I’m just sayin.

R:  Thanks for being honest about that, baby.  [Loving and Humble, party of one, please.]

+++

The other day, I invited my girlfriend E to lunch spur of the moment with some friends and she said she needed to check with her husband first.  I sorta cringed.  Not gonna lie.  But she quickly said it was because they were on a budget and she wanted to see if she could splurge a little by eating out with us for the first time in a while.

Then it hit me.

My friend E is already learning how to be one with her husband–in this case, of one mind about their finances.  She didn’t want to make a snap decision to use their money outside the boundaries that they’d set up.  And his response was–I imagine–loving.  And flexible.  Because she came to lunch with us.  And we enjoyed her company.

What a great example.