Good golly, Miss Molly.

So here is my excuse for falling off the face of the planet.

 

Needless to say, I certainly liked pancakes before, but you better believe I love ‘em now. Actually, I haven’t had a pancake since that fateful day. But it’s cool. I got plenty of time. Justin is officially my Pancake Master. Here is what has happened so far since:

1. “God must bless your marriage!” – my mother, hysterical one night during dinner and possibly possessed by demons;  I was not witness to this transformation but my sister had the great fortune of being there and backfiring with her some choice language of her own. The demon has momentarily been put to rest, but I am sure he will resurface.

2. “Justin is a lovely boy and now he will be my grandson!” – my grandmother, always observant and her usual amazing self

3. “Is she pregnant?” – my sister’s boyfriend, who actually was my Junior Prom date many, many moons ago and so luckily, because of that, I am willing to forgive him.. for now. Actually, he’s a very nice person. Maybe this was just a slip. We all make mistakes. High school just happened to hold the majority of mine.

4. “OHHH MY GODDDDD IT’S SO BEEEEEAUTIFUL AAAHHHH WHEN IS IT AAAHHHH DID YOU PICK A DATE YET” etc etc ad nauseam – most co-workers. They’re female. I can’t blame them.

5. “IS THIS ABOUT ANOTHER BRIDAL MAGAZINE??!” – my sister, after I’d called her 3 times in one night while at work

6. “Are you sure you want to do this?” – my dad, mustached and as optimistic as ever

In order, the answers to those questions are:

No; yes!; NO!!!!!; We’re thinking April 24th, 2010; No (it was about Crasian); and yes, yes, yes.

We haven’t figured many of the details out yet but uh, we got some time. Yesterday on my break from work, I was demanded of my mother what colors and sorts of silverware I was planning on having. I said, “For what? The wedding?” and she said, “Nooo, your house!”

Oh, the house I don’t have! Right! In the hopes of clearing up those vital questions, I registered last night and this morning. Thank goodness for teh internets. Not like I know what to really register for, aside from like.. a MacBook. I think that’s entirely reasonable and I made sure to have it shipped to me.

Also yesterday, we ventured to the Philly Free Library to have a looksee as a potential spot for le wedding. It is currently residing in the “perhaps” position. There are probably 9,000 more spots we will visit, along with the other quazillion decisions I am going to be making. All I know is that I would like a cereal buffet, a coffee/tea bar buffet thing, a Death Star cake (for the groom’s cake, not for the actual wedding one, because I don’t think my older relatives would be able to handle that and/or know what the hell it is), books all over the place, there are a couple songs I have already chosen, and of course I need a shitload of unicorns. Oh, and the colors we’ll be using will be dark blue and light blue and cream or something. I am willing to compromise on the actual number of said unicorn shitload. But not by much. I needs them.

So with all that mushy gushy stuff out of the way, let me leave you with this striking tidbit.

CRASIAN WENT TO MY HIGH SCHOOL. SHE IS 34 YEARS OF AGE. SHE HAS A SISTER JUST ONE YEAR OLDER THAN ME, WHO I KNOW, BECAUSE SHE RODE MY BUS. CRASIAN NOT ONLY WENT TO MY HIGH SCHOOL, BUT LIVED IN MY NEIGHBORHOOD.

I don’t think it gets much weirder than that. Oh, wait — she did tell me last night that we, along with her sister and mother, are forming a corporation. I suggested she make some business cards and get back to me, but she told me those are unnecessary — we are replacing the CIA. 

Sigh.

I could keep going, but really — who wants to hear about silly wedding plans, and there is only so much Crasian one can handle in one’s day. Plus, I have to go RUN. On a TREADMILL. Gah, the things I do for love.