I hate dresses. I’ll just start out with that. I’ll even repeat it for emphasis. I. Hate. Dresses. They are uncomfortable. They are restrictive in movement. They are overpriced. Almost all lack pockets. They are just… the worst. When the time came for the fella and I to start discussing the wedding wardrobe, I ranted…
I’ll admit it. I don’t know much about Doctor Who. I knows! I will also confess that I haven’t seen any of the Harry Potter movies. That is, apparently, a cardinal sin amongst my friends. But – per the theme of this blog – I don’t care. My husband is a Doctor Who fan.…
When mailing out those precious invites, common sense dictates that one sends a sampling of two to three through the mail. A testing of the system, if you will. They arrive – one has achieved success and can move forward. They are returned – access the situation and make the required corrections and test again.…
I didn’t want one. I’ll just get that out there at the start. I was adamant. No ring. Nope! Especially a diamond ring. It just isn’t my style. I was firm in my opinion. I got a ring. Hypocrite! I know. I know. I didn’t want an engagement ring for a host of reasons: I…
“Will you marry me?” After a quick confirmation that I would, my (then) fiance and I sat down on his couch and had to make our first decision as an engaged couple: how the heck do we tell people? It seemed to be a no-win situation. A Kobayashi Maru, if you will (don’t worry, Star…