I love lazing around the house at my parents, doing whatever I please, drinking a nice glass of wine and playing Zelda on the Nintendo DS until my hand falls off. (What does anyone care? Dad's playing with his new PS3.)
No matter how much of an independent spirit I keep trying to convince myself that I have, it's so very necessary to see my family every once in a while. They keep me grounded, make me relieved from the pressure of being on my own. I can let them cook for me, take me clothes shopping (I'm wearing a delicious J. Jill sweater... one of my stand partners in the opera told me I had cornered the market on yummy, happy, fuzzy sweaters and now I have a standard to uphold) and I can let them love me for who I am... something, I believe, I've been in withdrawal for. Not because people in Portland aren't great, but they sure don't know me as well as the three people I'm sharing this house with at the moment.
In other, happier lighter news, I've been doing some serious thinking about this wedding o' mine. I know I want to marry Tom, and the idea of a casual, hang-outy reception sounds nice, but the ceremony is throwing me for a loop. Tom and I aren't religious, or even that fancy. So I think the idea of a traditional wedding ceremony just isn't fitting with me. I liked trying on wedding dresses, but I'm not sure I LOVED them. I'm wondering what the harm would be in just planning a reception, and getting married in judge's chambers or something with our nuclear families and wedding parties? Tom and I have been tossing this quasi-elopement idea back and forth, and like a true good groom, his most common response is to agree to go along with whatever I want. This is technically back to square one.
I promise we won't get married in a Chili's.
Previous | Next