One Year Later

One year ago today, I woke up at 6am tired and groggy from a late night of girl talk and free wine. I had my hair and makeup professionally done while I let several mimosas go to my head. I employed the help of three other girls to put on a while ball gown adorned with lace, chiffon, and crystals. I got closer to my sister than I ever have when I realized that I'd forgotten to put on my something blue panties.

I paced the floor of the Knickerbocker lobby waiting for a limo driver that was thirty minutes late. The nerves subsided just a bit each time a tourist ooh'd, ahhh'd and asked to take a picture with me. I yelled at the sweet but late driver when he asked which route to take to avoid traffic "WHICHEVER ONE IS THE QUICKEST!". My chest began to heave as we approached the church and before I could speak my wonderful florist whisked out of the car and to my Dad in the bridal room. His eyes teared up as the photographer captured our Father Daughter moment.

I began to cry when I saw how many people were in the pews waiting to share our special ceremony. I kneeled longer than I ever thought I could and swapped one Maid of Honor for another when the first got light headed from it all. I smiled uncontrollably as the ceremony, kiss, and pictures went off perfectly. We arrived at the party we threw just for us bathed inattention and champagne. I was surrounded by waiters holding plates of flaky, bite-sized Beef Wellingtons and crispy coconut shrimp. Family and friends excitedly talked with just wanting a moment with the lady of the hour.

I cried at times I never thought I would (best man speech) and I times I knew I would (Father Daughter dance). We convinced people that we practiced our first dance for weeks though we'd been so busy planning we hadn't danced in months. We wowed our guest with a venue that most people hadn't been to in a decade, if at all. We hosted as ifmit were our own home and joined in the show whenever we could. I shocked when I arrived in a party dress

and even my grandmother, who walks with a cane, couldn't keep from getting down. The dance floor, like people glasses, were never empty and the party went on much longer than we could.

One year ago today, I walked into a suite similar to the one I'm in now and next to a man I knew I could never stop loving. And the next day I woke up the way I pray I always will: in the arms of my husband. Today we celebrate our one year anniversary and I invite everyone who celebrated with us this day one year ago to celebrate right along with us. We can't be there but please have a drink, share a laugh and a dance on us!

The Anniversary and Love

Today is our 3-year anniversary. Which in and of itself is a shock to the dome because you realize that once you hit the anniversary you actually start the next year. So as of tomorrow Rick and I will be in the 4th year of our relationship. Ah-ha...bet you never thought of it that way did you? Well I did and now I do all the time. I was thinking yesterday that I was 23-years-old when Rick and I met. I was fresh and fancy free, just out of college and full of potential. And now I'm 26...not to say that I've lost any of that potential or that I've gone bad. It's just...it's just that it's been 3 YEARS! What is he waiting for???? Ooops did I say that out loud.

Anyway, I caught a glimpse of another interracial couple giving each other a kiss good-bye this morning in the in the tunnel Jackson (woo woo Blue Line!). It wasn't their interracial status that caught my attention (of course), it was that he was a very attractive (albeit short) guy and she was a dumpy, badly-dressed (though I'm sure sweet as pie) girl. That got me to thinking about love. When you fall in love it doesn't matter what love looks like, or what love says, or does because whatever it is, well you love it. Then the years go by and love puts on a few pounds, starts dressing in hippie-esque mu-mus and dingy sweaters, love stops styling its hair all nice. And there's nothing you can do about it because it's love and it got you a long time ago. Love rolls over on you in the morning and sometimes you wish it would just move over a little bit. Love is waiting at home for you and you want to spend time with it, but you need to go to the gym or everyone is going out for drinks after work. Then Love makes you feel bad and selfish, and then when Love wants to go out part of you wants them not to, but that only reminds you again of how selfish you can be. Love has a way of doing those things. Love never felt that way when it first came along. It never dressed that way, or smelled that way, or cooked dinner that way. But at least it's still Love, right? Right!