The wedding is making me crazy.

This is going to be a full-blown no-apologies wedding post.

Why?

Because it's my life right now.

I want to start by apologizing to every woman whose registry I peered at with some judgment, and whose wedding shower I attended with cynicism.

A $50 crockpot? What?

A $400 vacuum? WHY?

Nice silverware? WHO USES THAT?

Hello from the other side, friends.

Dear ladies, I now understand the hours that you spent laboring over that registry, lamenting prices and feeling self-conscious about what other people would buy for you. I, too, would like to have a nice dutch oven. I, too, put four different sets of plates on two different registries before I finally settled on one--which was then discontinued. I, TOO, am saving bedding for last because then I may not have the energy to waste indecisive hours in front of my computer screen, only to choose overpriced sheets and a scratchy comforter.

I used to look forward to the day when I could register for and receive wedding gifts.

I didn't realize that it's hard to set up a house without knowing what house you're going to live in.

(We aren't going to talk about houses right now.)

These days, I ping-pong between giddy, super chill, and VORTEX OF WEDDING DARKNESS.

Tapering off my Zoloft may be a contributing factor--but that's an entirely different blog post.

Here are some examples of my emotional fields right now.

Going to my wedding hair trial: general sadness that my hair isn't long, thick, and fake enough to look like something from pinterest.

First dress fitting: heart-pounding excitement because I AM BEAUTIFUL.

Browsing department stores to look at registry possibilities: a sensation akin to my brain being an overstuffed paper shredder.

Deciding what the wedding cake should look like: anger at myself for caring so much about the design for a piece of food.

Looking at pictures of our honeymoon location: Warm fuzzies with proportionate panic over getting on a plane again.

Trimming and tweaking the guest list: UTTER DESPAIR.

Invitations: I can't.

I'm not a complicated bride. My dress is from David's, my cake is from a tiny place in town, I have registries at Walmart, Amazon and Bed Bath & Beyond, our invitations will be ordered with the next Vistaprint coupon, and we're eating barbeque at the reception.

But few things are simple when it comes to this kind of affair.

The world becomes a new place when you go into wedding mode. When I walk into people's houses now, I examine their kitchen appliances. I notice flowers and know more of their names. I'm attracted to anything that's powder blue and peach. Cakes float behind my closed eyelids when I go to sleep at night. I'm afraid to talk to people who I haven't seen in a long time because then I might have to put them on the guest list. 

But I will say this--the NUMBER ONE thing about wedding planning--the absolute bestest best part of the mess--is how it has changed our relationship. Making decisions with Josh was uncomfortable at first, and is still uncomfortable at times, but it brings us closer together in a cool way. It's something you don't really understand until you begin to become one unit with someone else.
Sure, Josh is my best friend, but he's not my best friend in a way that Morgan or Lisa or Audrey or anybody else is. He's my partner, which is better than a best friend. It's a strange, great thing.

Our first date was one year ago yesterday.
I know, it's not very much time.
But sometimes, you just know. God seems to be very clear in his call for us right now, and the timing is sweeeeet.

Anyway. Here are some pictures from the celebration of our first-date-iversary.
Enjoy our lovey-ness.

And this was the "wonton" that came on my Asian salad. Just a warning to anybody who may go to Cheddar's and consider it.  Nope. Nopity, nope, nope, nope: