The first of many: remember that time I got married?

I'm trying to get Blogger to let me change my "identity," but it looks as though the best that's going to happen is adding my married-lady Google account as an author to the blog. So don't be confused...there is only one Megan around here, she's just in a weird, between-names place. (What a great excuse to have ADD and just create a new blog, though, right? I've been toying with the idea of naming a new blog "Hot MES," because those are my initials and I am often in ridiculous situations. I feel like it's dumb to call myself "hot," though, so that is a problem. Opinions?)

Anyway, to the task at hand! Since there was very little blogging lead-up to Wedding Day, let me fill you in on some key stuff: the event coordinator at the venue (cute downtown hotel) hadn't proven herself any more useful as time passed, I had a completely disastrous post-alterations fitting in which it was a challenge to get the zipper up (tears, shockingly, did not ensue), and I had completely lost the ability to sleep past, ohhh...5:30am? And yet, as it got closer and closer, I got more and more calm. I was able to tune out the idiocy of the coordinator (and ended up loving the hotel's day-of person), I went on this crazy (and probably pretty unhealthy, though I was still eating) diet and lost enough weight to be comfortable and attractive in my dress (and haven't gained back all the weight since, yay!), and I made the most of my all-the-time wakefulness with a ton and a half of craft projects. I was ready!

We got married on a Sunday, and people started getting into town around Thursday, which made my decision to only work Monday a pretty easy one. Things really started on Friday, when my mom and stepdad threw a wedding-weekend-kickoff cocktail party at their house. It was a lovely evening, and a good reminder to me that, since I wasn't eating much, maybe I shouldn't drink a ton. Unlike an engagement party that my mom and stepdad had thrown for us last August (well, last-last...it was August 2008), my dad wasn't invited-- not to be hurtful or exclusive, but I would say that it's the norm for divorced couples not to invite their exes to parties. This isn't terribly important now, but will become more so later. (Just trust me, ok?)

On Saturday morning, I took my maid of honor and bridesmaids out to breakfast and had scheduled a mass mani/pedi appointment for any in-town ladies who wanted to get together pre-rehearsal dinner-- this included out-of-town people and friends of mine and my mom's, etc. However, when we were on our way to the nail salon, I got a call from the owner, confirming my appointment for Sunday. As in, the day of my wedding. This would not do! Luckily, we all got our nails done and no one was the wiser-- and I think that was my only episode of "bride brain." Thank god. We arrived at the hotel later that afternoon for the rehearsal, during which my dad spotted the very meticulous timeline I'd put together on a bridesmaid's clipboard. Pointing at the entry for the Friday cocktail party, he asked my friend, "See that?" Gulp. "I wasn't invited." Fun, dad, thanks for that.

Saturday night was our rehearsal dinner, a delicious and less-stressful-than-I-feared spread put on by MaGP and PaGP. As the spokesperson for the couple, I got to be the one to give the thank-you speech and kick off the slideshow, a tearjerker complete with Ben Harper soundtrack (seemed more appropriate at the rehearsal than the wedding). I (unlike a certain spouse of mine) wrote all my cards to parents and the soon-to-be in-laws and husband, and finally managed to get some sleep.

Now, I could give you a blow-by-blow of the wedding day, tell you about hanging out in the hair-and-makeup room with the girls, listening to music from Glee to pass the hours and hours before the ceremony, waiting anxiously to do the "first look" photos with GP, and mildly panicking when I was told it was time to go and my fricking dad was nowhere to be found, but all you really want are pictures, right? Well, who am I to deny you? (NB: these are just stolen pictures from Facebook, not the lovely ones that I anticipate from my awesome ninja photographer.)

I had both my dad and stepdad walk me down the aisle.

I surprised myself (and GP, and many others) by not crying my eyes out during the ceremony. Instead, because it was so surreal, I had to stop myself from giggling a little.
Then, what seemed like about 2 minutes later (seriously, our ceremony felt so short!), we were married. Good thing we had practiced that kiss!
What we had not practiced was appropriate hand-holding. Let me explain: by the time we were getting closer to the kissing part of the ceremony, GP had developed a death grip on my hand, and my ring was digging into my left pinky finger. It did not feel awesome. But as the kiss got closer and closer, I knew I couldn't pull back, pause, and go, "Ow! Nice hands, please, sir." So I just went with it. And, not to bombard you with pictures of us kissing (I assure you it was an appropriate kiss), but come on... (and look how happy GP's sister looks!)
With all the kissing and finger-mangling done, we were ready to take our triumphant walk back down the aisle as husband and wife.
I had to pause for a second to collect myself...
(don't judge my double chin! I love this picture despite it)
After the cocktail hour, we had the dad and stepdad toasts (respectively short and blessedly tear-free, and long and sentimental), we ate our delicious meals, had the best mens' and maid of honor's toasts...and at some point got to eat cake. I love this picture because it shows a fraction of the awesome job our florist did.
He also made us some gorgeous centerpieces (there were three styles in all, distributed among our eleven tables). That program, though (and the ninety-nine others just like it)? All me.
Here we are cutting the cake-- less awkward than I feared, and with an Ingrid Michaelson accompaniment-- with our super-sweet photographer all up in our grills (oh yes I did).
When I have the much-anticipated pro pictures, I will share some of my favorites, but for now, I leave you with this: one of the more adorable ones of my brother, who was so sweetly teary the whole day. (And called me the previous Thursday to say that the Jim/Pam Office wedding made him cry because he was thinking of us. That kid!)


Up next: some honeymoon recaps!

NaNo...not even going to attempt

I don't think that the best way to welcome myself back to Blogtown USA after taking a "Hot damn, I'm getting married and going on a big fat honeymoon, y'all!" break for the last month and a half would be to try blogging every single day (witness my previous failure to do this), but I promise you this, blogfriends: you will have the wedding preamble, wedding day stories, and honeymoon recaps by the time Thanksgiving rolls around. Well, I guess I can push it back to my birthday if I'm being realistic. But that's it! December 2 is my self-imposed deadline for getting all. These. Stories. Into writing!

The short version? I got married! It was awesome! Then? We went on our honeymoon. Also awesome! But then, last Friday, we had to come back home, and today...they made me do work. Which is not as awesome as vacation, even though I enjoy my job and coworkers. So at this moment, all I really want to do is play with my duty-free Jurlique products and come closer to finishing My Life In France.

In which I feel like a narcissist

(Which is sort of moot, this being a blog and all.)

Anyway. Last month, my mom and Grandma threw me a gorgeous shower at a local mansion, and asked everyone to wear hats. It was an adorable theme, and I got some sweet gifts. I hadn't blogged about it yet because I was waiting on the pictures from my photographer, who came to shoot us for about an hour. Much to my great delight, he had the pictures ready yesterday-- and here are some of my favorites:

Um, ok. I make this face a lot. I am, probably thanks to (and much to the great chagrin of) my mother, a terrible eye-roller. Like, to the point where she would say, "Don't roll your eyes at me!" When my back was to her. Moms are magic, aren't they? Anyway, now it is something I do to convey strong emotion of any kind. In this case, joy. Or maybe anticipation, who knows.

Between my mom and GP's mom, who made the trip across the country to come to the shower. Bet you can guess who is who!

Seriously, how cute is my Grandma? If you answered, "Quite," then you are correct.

Here, two thirds of my bridal party are seeking shelter under my enormous hat. (Notice that they both wimped out and are wearing fancy headbands.)

The only bouquet I will ever throw, because I think that it's sort of a mean tradition. At the wedding, we'll be giving the "toss" bouquet to the couple in attendance that's been married the longest (might be my aunt and uncle, or maybe even GP's parents!).

Finally, all the ladies together! I am usually sort of "meh" about group photos, because invariably someone is blinking or making a weird face...but this one ended up very nicely, I think.

This Guy

He offered to guest post, and I nearly spit out my wine. "You would? Really? That would be so awesome." I do, at times, feel like I can only say so much about how annoying I find Taylor on the Rachel Zoe Project and post so many pictures of my kitchen experiments. So get excited, friends-- GP is at least nine kinds of fun.

Whether he's expressing frustration (but still appears to be smiling) at a lousy crossword clue...
Being terrified on a theme park ferris wheel (there's the smile again-- what gives?)...
Taking in a 3D movie about bugs, that happens to be narrated by Dame Judi Dench...
Or just taking a break and enjoying a good old-fashioned game of ball-in-a-cup (yes, that's what that blur is)......he is generally pretty good times. Bonus: he knows all my secrets, and will probably tell them to you if you offer the right combination of booze and salty meats. If you have questions, ask 'em, and if not...well, get excited, because who knows what the hell he'll end up writing about.

Easy as 1, 2, 3

Three years ago yesterday, I arrived (a couple minutes late, of course) at what would end up being my last first date. It was a date that lasted eight hours, and didn't end with a kiss (yes, I still occasionally get razzed for that). What did follow this marathon date were innumerable emails, texts, phone calls, and late-night viewings of dvr-ed Futurama...oh, and then, about a year and a half later, there was a marriage proposal. In Paris. Because we are jerks like that.

So, how does one celebrate an anniversary that falls just a month before one's wedding? With Ina Garten recipes! And champagne! Observe...

There were gifts! But don't be fooled-- this box contains socks and t-shirts. Oh yes, the romance is still very much alive.
See? You send the man to the grocery store on his way home from work because you forgot to get blueberries, and he comes home with flowers. Win!

The pre-dinner libations: whiskey sours, Ina recipe #1. Totally worth making the simple syrup and squeezing the fresh lemon and lime juice. Also, very pleasantly boozy. Not pictured: pigs in blankets-- a snack that I find generally pretty gross, but GP loves. Compromise, y'all!

The dinner! It was my first time making any type of steaks at home, but the Safeway guy assured me these ribeyes would be delicious (and they were, with just a little salt, pepper, and olive oil)-- oh, and on top? That would be Ina's Provencal butter. So worth dirtying up the food processor. Also pictured: not-fancy-at-all, previously frozen fries, and broccolini with balsamic vinaigrette.
And for dessert? Ina to the rescue again (with even more butter) with a summer fruit crostata. So, so easy and delicious, especially because I was able to find some gorgeous peaches at the market. Because we were celebrating (because nothing says happy anniversary like dessert and a West Wing episode), there was some Gloria Ferrer Royal Cuvee. Fanciest Tuesday night. Ever.

This guy...I think I'll keep him around. Also, I think I've discovered how Ina has kept Jeffrey around for all these years-- pump him full of butter, and his heart will give out at anything faster than a brisk walk.

What I'm loving right now...

This is one of those posts that begins composing itself in one's head a good two or three weeks before it finally gets posted. Not to say that the quality of the writing is that greatly improved, but it does mean that I really, truly do love these things...

New Sephora acquisitions: I am always so excited to make my final selections after loading my basket with a ton of "maybe" items. When I get home, I find myself tearing open the (pretty, pretty) packaging and using whatever I have purchased. Case in point-- went with MaGP when they were in town a couple weeks ago for my shower (which, ok, I am lame and haven't talked about or posted pictures...but I'm waiting on our photographer to send me the pictures!), and bought a Jurlique sample pack (am totally in love, convinced that I need to buy products that include a nearly-$70 "herbal recovery gel," oh yes I do) and Laura Mercier Magical Flawless Skin Set (or something like that, seriously, they should let me name their products). Got home and headed straight to the bathroom for face-washing and makeup-putting-on. Pure magic, I tell you.

West Wing. Period. I don't know where the hell I was when this originally aired (high school? Gah, what was I watching instead of this?), but I am so happy to have it in my life now. We have borrowed seasons 1-4 from one of GP's friends, and burned right through them. I'm downloading season 5 right now, and...oh my god, you guys, I am in love with AMERICA! And Josh Lyman, and, yeah, a little bit with Will Bailey. But that might just be residual Jeremy-love from my Sports Night watching (another Sorkin show, quite lovely, really. With Peter Krause, so...bonus!).

String cheese. Where have you been all my life, low moisture, part-skim mozzarella? Never leave me, ok? (Remember that time I gave up cheese for Lent, even though I am not the biggest fan of Jebus? Wasn't that just awful?)

How little time there is until The Wedding. Ha, you thought you'd be able to get through a single post without me mentioning it? You, my friend, are a fool. Because I have only one month and three days left, and I. Am. Ready for this thing. I am tired of making decisions, and already of chasing down the seven delinquent RSVPs, and tired in advance when I think about how ridiculous all the little things that we have to do before we can just Be Married are. But that's why we do them, right? Because we are convinced that, at the end of the day, it will be worth it. And I know it will.

Um, not to go back to something as silly as television, but I am more than reasonably excited for all my shows to start! I am filling the void with Bravo reality programming (I am more of a fan of old raisin-faced Rachel Zoe than I thought, though I want to throw Taylor straight into a swimming pool, Melrose Place-style) and new Project Runway (my favorite so far? Shirin.), but I have already re-watched the Glee pilot once (and am not above watching it again), and can't wait for new seasons of 30 Rock and The Office. Too bad we have to wait until January for more Lost...

Twitter! I am so late to the party on this one that it's a little silly to be so up in arms about it, but...I am. In my boss's absence, I am co-manning the library's Twitter account, and let me tell you, organizational Twitter accounts, especially in our field, are fricking boring. Mine, I promise, is much more entertaining. It is much as I thought, very similar to my Facebook status updates, but more conversational. I still can't believe that there aren't more younger Twitter users--I believe there was a quote in the NYT article about Twitter where a teenager said that Twitter seemed "more, like, professional," and I say to this teenager...what? I am sort of living in fear of any potential future employers (who we will assume lack much of a sense of humor, for the sake of argument) discovering my tweets. Professional, my ass.

Also. Get excited, friends! I took GP out for dinner last night to mark a birthday that officially means he is in his Late Twenties, and the blog came up...and he offered to do a guest post. So. Get! Excited! It is likely to be wedding-or-mawwage related, but will be completely different from my constant oh-my-god-I'm-going-to-kill-someone wedding rantiness. Anyone have a question or two for him? I'm sure he will be happy to oblige...

The Best-Friend Problem

Warning: this post starts mushily, and will end even more so. For the faint of heart, click away now!

Ok, so for the same reason that I do not have a favorite color (I am not nine years old), I do not really have a "best friend." I don't want my friends to think that they have to compete for my affection (because you know there would be fistfights if they did), and each friendship is so different that I wouldn't even know where to begin choosing a "best." A related problem to this is that I am fairly uncomfortable even using the term "best friend"-- I don't describe anyone as such, and can't really bear to say that I am "marrying my best friend." Just like "journey" and "soul mate," "best friend" sort of makes my skin crawl. I can't explain it...and, because we are writing our ceremony with a lot of help from our awesome officiant, I don't have to. What I do have to do, however, is find adequate words to express what we're feeling. Commence brow furrowing!

And then. Last night, amid cheers and agonized cries brought on by the beginning of college football season, GP turns to me and says, "You know how you are trying to find another way to say 'best friend' for the ceremony? What about...constant?" He assured me that he was about 40% joking, and it may have been the combination of beer and cheap riesling responding, but I was instantly won over. Sure, it is a fairly dorky term from a television show. But! People who know it in the context of Lost are likely to smile along, and people that don't know the connection are likely to still "get it" and appreciate the term for its own, non-sci-fi-tv-show-related, meaning. Right? Is this a terrible idea? Because right now, when I look at our ceremony and I look at this clip, I feel like it just...fits.