I can't believe it's really here!!! My hairdresser is here and I'm about to get my hair done!! I'm at my mom's house (which is why I have access to a computer) and I'm so happy I could bust apart at the seams!!

I just want this day to go on and on forever.

I'm getting married.

WOO HOO!!!

This may be the last time you hear from me until after the wedding. The last time you hear from me for the next three weeks. The last time you hear from me as a single woman.

WOOOOOOOOOO HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Giddy. Giddy Giddy Giddy Giddy Giddy Giddy Giddy Giddy Giddy.

I feel GIDDY! Oh so GIDDY…

I can’t sit still for even a minute. Periodically I call Skye to blurt instructions at him, just so I feel like I’m DOING something.

“Baby?”
“Yes, Angel?”
“Call BigGuy.”
“Um… why?”
“Just do it!”
“……okaaaaay…”

It makes me feel better. This hurry up and wait is Keeeeeeeling me, seenyor! I feel like that bear on the old Donald Duck cartoons that didn’t know which way to run and ends up going nowhere. Woo Hoo, they should bottle this stuff!! Oh, wait! They do! It’s called E! HA!

Actually I wouldn’t know. The strongest drugs I’ve ever tried would be pot. And I refused to smoke it, so my best friend, Jem, had to bake it in brownies. HA! And I was still psychotically locked in an eating disorder, so I asked her to substitute applesauce for oil so that they’d be FAT FREE hash brownies.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAQHAHAAHAHAAAAA!!

Hoo.

What the hell am I talking about?

Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!

Six Days!!! Woo Hoo!!

I am SOOOOOOO excited!

You know, I just did some of the math… ouch. I think I pulled something in my brain. This wedding has cost us roughlyyyyyyyyyyyyyy…. A lot. And do you know what? It’s worth EVERY penny! The best part is that we paid for 90% of it on our own. I can’t describe the pride that I feel over this. I’m 28 years old, and I work my booty off at my career. 9 to 5 my ASS! Try 5 to 9! And it’s a pretty big risk, too. I mean this is, technically, a start up company. I worked for a long time with no medical benefits, and then I had benefits and chose (along with everyone else in the Company) to give them up and forego overrides indefinitely because the company was suffering. And here I am, paying for my own wedding, taking a two week honeymoon that we paid for half of (Mom and Dad’s wedding gift to us was to pay for as much of the honeymoon as they could), driving a new car (well… 2000 model), living in a great apartment, and best of all… marrying the Love of my Life.

Sometimes I can’t believe how fortunate I am. Are we wealthy? Hell no! Every penny over the last year has been sucked into the monetary black hole that is our wedding. But do you know what? This is once in a lifetime. I’ll never do this again, so I’m gonna celebrate like it’s 199…. Um, you get the point. We’re young, we’re not tied down to kids, we’re healthy, we’re faithfully in love, and in six days we're gonna celebrate this with 200 friends and family members who we love.

Six days…. God help me I’m excited….

Wow. I managed to gross myself out a SECOND time with that.

So I was just on the IM with ChynaKatt. Amid “talk” of my wedding she mentioned that it would be a princess wedding. I’ve never heard the term, but I understood the reference. Read “Princess Wedding” as: Big White Cloud. I mean I could successfully smuggle 12 midgets out of the country under this thing. My Momster told me that no one is allowed to wear red to a wedding, as they might “outshine” the bride…..

I’M WEARING THIRTY POUNDS OF SPARKLY CRINELINE!! A SMARTBOMB couldn’t outshine me. I’m sparkling, and flashing, and beeping (when I back up). It’s gonna take a full reconnaissance mission to find my ASS so I can pee. The only thing bigger or flashier than me is the LIMO. Don’t worry about the reconnaissance thing though, as I told ChynaKatt, I’ve decided to have a catheter and colostomy bag installed for convenience. I bet you all can’t wait to hug me NOW.

I would like to add a bit to the ending of Broadway’s story.

Ahem:

To which the Father answered, “ Well son, way back before you were born, there was a time when people thought it was necessary to classify people with titles, or “Races,” according to where they lived, or what they looked like. Each different “race” was often intolerant of the others for having different customs or beliefs. This was back before the World War on Terrorism, which, oddly enough, was the thing we all needed to see that we were all actually…” He shrugged, “just Human.”

The boy thought about this for a moment. “Daddy?”

“Yes?” The father replied

“That sounds like a stupid Race to me.”