The Lost Blog Snippet

Whenever inspiration rockets past my ear and slams into the nearest wall in a firestorm of 4th-of-July sparklers and cartoon squirrels, I try to capture it by quickly opening a new e-mail message page and typing furiously before the visions seared into my corneas fade away. (Note to self: Purchase fire extinguisher.)

This happened a few weeks prior to my wedding. The writing below is the result.

My outlook on getting everything done for the wedding:

June 30, 1700-ish: "We have gobs of time."

July 1, 0400-ish: "WE HAVE NO TIME."

Seriously. Nico and I spent a good 45 minutes or so sitting in James Avery discussing the pros and cons of getting a way-fancy ring versus a "work" ring or both (and by "discussing" I mean that Nico listens really intently to his neurotic fiancée).

The end!

But not really. Wedding brain still lives within me. Not the psychotic NOW-ALL-MY-SINGLE-FRIENDS-SHOULD-GET-HITCHED-TOO kind; the I'm-pretty-sure-I-had-plans-to-hang-out-with-Friend-X-on-Friday-but-it's-not-written-in-my-Outlook-calendar-so-I'm-beginning-to-question-my-sanity kind.

Outlook and iCal are my second (and third?) brain(s?).

And this handsome fellow married me anyway (and is still married to me, four-ish months later).

Leave it to me to manage to make it look like he's sticking his finger up his nose.

P.S.: For those of you who are wondering about the outcome of the 45-plus-minute conversation about rings, we went with the "work" rings. Holla atcha, James Avery (who didn't pay me to write about the company's wares)!

An Ode to the Fiancé

Let me just say, y’all, that I love my man. He is smart, he is hilarious, he is faithful. He is also the sweetest, most attentive darn thing. Before he goes to class, he will drive miles and miles to bring me assorted teas and goodies because I’m sick and decided to go to work anyways because I could physically get out of bed and drive a car without veering into a cow pasture.

Did I mention that these miles and miles are in the complete opposite direction of where his classes are located? And that this has happened on more than one occasion?

Yeah. Be jealous.

He is such a servant. When I was sick and did nothing more productive than languish on a cough and look (and feel and sound) miserable, he sat across from me and peeled tiny oranges for me to eat. He also provided limitless hot tea for my sipping enjoyment. He stayed up with me when I was stricken with sudden sickness (notice a pattern?) and made sure I was feeling all right, could he get me anything, did I want to lay down, would a glass of water be OK, did I want a kitty to pet? (+10 for offering me a kitty to pet.)

He’s pretty awesome even when I’m not in the throes of motion-sickness or food-sickness or whatever-else-sickness (which, thankfully, are much less pronounced than when we met). He reads with me, sings in the car with me, texts back and forth with me, eats ungodly amount of sushi and spicy mayo with me, and walks through parks and neighborhoods and inhabited island houses with me. He will grab a Nerf gun and Army crawl across an expansive hardwood floor because a precocious 10-year-old Down’s kid told him to. He will volunteer to goatsit for a family he just met while they’re on vacation. He will apologize before the sun goes down, regardless of the pride wounds it might inflict. He is always looking for new (or old) things to learn and adventures to be had. He looks for ways in which he can love on the people around him, be they friends, classmates, or strangers. He’s on a perpetual journey to better know his God and thank his Savior.

What a book-readin' stud.

Yeah, he’s pretty much the greatest.

And I get to marry him in July.

Boo yah.