They rock my socks and my shoes.
They’re awesome, and somehow, always do the trick. We pinky swear to resolve fights, keep promises and make decisions. So it was only natural to have a pinky in our wedding. We used it right after our vows and before the declaration. While it wasn’t spontaneous like the thumb war or the high-five, it was still one of the more fitting moves made during our ceremony. It was keeping with our own personal ritual whilst showing a very personal side of us to everyone.
It added an extra bit of zest to the verbal commitment we made. It’s as though by including the pinky swear, it became all-encompassing. A verbal and physical agreement. And that, for us, made it more personalized.
Also? This photo makes me smile.
It’s fun to watch right now. My friends who got engaged about the same time I did are getting married. And new friends are engaged. And in a couple years’, or a year’s, time, they’ll get married. And surely by then, even more friends will be engaged. And the cycle will begin again.
I have one friend who is getting married this weekend and I’m thrilled beyond for her. I have three more who’ve all gotten hitched between now and when Aussie and I did. I have one who is so unbelievably mum about her planning that it’s driving me crazy with anticipation. I have one very, very special friend who is getting married next summer. And she’s just beginning the planning process.
I’ve watched with sheer enthrallment as they’ve experienced similar pains, excitements, trials and tribulations as to what I experienced. I get pangs of flashbacks as the stress sets in and as the giddiness overflows.
Congratulations to all of you. May your love forever overshadow the hell of planning and may your wedding day be just one step toward a lifetime of happiness.
But there was a particular song in it I have never forgotten.
Make new friends / but keep the old / One is silver / the other is gold.
There’s obv. more to it than that. Anywho, seems as though every time I look at photos from our wedding, photos of our friends, those lyrics pop into my mind.
And that rocks.
One of the first things I noticed when we logged on to The Face in the few days after the wedding was that my homies and his homies were becoming homies in Interwebland. And there have since been a spate of conversations, comments, etc. amongst them.
And watching it is awesome. My friends mean the world to me, as his do to him. So having our satellite families joining forces in such a way, and reflecting back at how well they all mixed, warms this chick to the toes.
There are little things that went … off at our wedding. Nothing really wrong, per se, just things that could have gone better or smoother.
But, nothing went THIS bad.
It reminds me to stop my whinging and breathe a little sigh of relief.
It’s been two years since we’ve had to engage in the hunt. We’ve been living happily in our little corner of town, watching roommates come and go, just as we engage in watching people meander down the bike path that runs through our back yard.
But now is the time, now that we have the wedding in the past and other great adventures ahead, for us to find a space to call our own. A place where we can post up, settle down and rock on.
But … therein lies the problem. Jackson isn’t exactly heaven for renters. At least right now it’s not. There’s usually a good-size turnover during the shoulder seasons. However, that’s not for another month or so. Occasionally luck will strike and a real gem will unexpectedly come on the market, but that’s few and far between and you really have to have a sharp eye on the listings.
As much as I would prefer to bask in the glow of the event that just passed, it’s time to refocus my attention so we can shift to the next stage. Which means crossing my fingers and keeping one eye on the classifieds.
Wish us luck!
Of the tropics, that is.
Upon our return, we went grocery shopping. And, as it were, we ended up buying a lot of items we had consumed in Hawaii. Not the least of which was a pineapple-orange juice mix and a carton of guava juice. Straight up passionfruit juice is hard to come by, so I figured this would be the next best thing to the POG juice I so fell in love with.
Not only was it a rad pick-me-up in the morning with my coffee (as a side, not IN), but it mixed really well with … anything. Tonight’s pick? Sailor Jerry’s rum. Which, incidentally, we found for the first time EVAR in a bar at Tommy Bahama‘s when we were having lunch. Imagine Aussie’s delight!
The transition back into work hasn’t been hard … just, uneventful. Obv. I wish I was still on vacation. But we did have a few great moments before we got back into the swing.
On Monday night we had a pseudo-“Farewell vacation/honeymoon” dinner. The food could have been better, but the company was delightful. We even ordered a bottle of Greg Norman sparkling wine as a minor ode to our beloved friends Down Under (and possibly those in Cali, since it’s made there).
And on the bus, I was kind of giggling about how our shoe choice hasn’t changed since the wedding. Except my nice wedding flip-flops have disappeared from existence. Le sigh.
I’m not really sure if the yearning for a tropical clime will leave me, now that I got it again for the first time in about 10 years. But hey, at least I know housing is cheap there and it could always be a contingency plan.