Week of the Sisterhood

It's finals again and I'm tired as all get out. Emotional, too.

This week I got to see all of you, which was a rare treat. If Fuzzy had been able to make the wedding, we all would have been together for the first time in who knows how long--even so, I'm still glad I got to see all of you.

DoHP, you need to move back, sweety. We all miss you more than you realize. You can stay in our front room cheap, and we'll find you a job. You can have your own bathroom if you're willing to deal with our OCD cleaning nueroses. I can't even tell you how much you were missed after you left--they way we all kept staring at the empty spot on the couch. This time around, the couches were full, and it was good. Plant those black eyed peas I sent you home with, because we need to break your black thumb curse. And thanks for not killing my orange trees.

Munchkin, congratulations on getting married. I can tell you it's the most frustrating and rewarding thing you'll ever do in life. Just remember--that first year is a doozy. Everyone thinks they will be different, but the first year is hard. It's like dating all over because suddenly you think he's going to change, and he will, but probably not the way you want him to. Just weather that first year, and as a subtle recommendation, don't add pregnancy hormones to the mix. One year either way won't make a difference at this point, and when you're screaming about dishes or trash removal or money, he won't be able to throw it in your face that your just hormonal.

Fuzzy, when did that boy get so big? Seems like just yesterday I was sleeping on a wooden hospital bench at 3am while you were sitting there in the worst pain of your life, trying to bring new life into the world. Remember when we were like 12 and we rode our bikes around the block? Remember when we read Animorphs? Remember when we used to get dropped off and picked up together in middle school? Kiddo, you need to move back too. I don't see enough of you anymore, and I really want to know your kid.

And Q, these last few weeks were really special. I'm sorry if I creeped you out with all the smiling--I just kept looking up and seeing you and Mr. Q, all cuddly and together again, and the two of you just look so happy. You're a different person when he's around; it really is like the two of you own a piece of each other, because I can tell when he's been away too long. You fake smile a lot and you're a little hallow when you talk. This past week you really smiled. You really laughed. And you looked really, really happy. I'm happy to have my old Q back, because when you shine, the rest of the world does too.

Alula

Woot!

So Mr. Munchkin and I are now married. That was the most excellent day of my entire life. I can't wait to ge the pictures so I can post a few for everyone to see. We started the day out with rain... supposed to be good luck right? I think so, but it didn't stop at the rain. After the rain we proceeded to hail and snow, I consider this to be a sign of the best luck possible. I mean who else honestly gets every type of precipitation on their wedding day? Before the ceremony began we had an uninvited guest named Tom, Tom Turkey. Yes folks I had a Wild Turkey (not the alcohol) at my wedding. Tom feasted on my environmentally friendly alternative to rice, wild bird seed, with gusto after many bags of it were thrown at Mr. Munchkin and myself.

The day was spectacular. DoHP helped avert crisis, and the best man arrived in time for the wedding. It snowed during the ceremony, one of the many reasons I cannot wait to post some pics. After the ceremony I did my bridal photos outside and the flakes were bigger and even more beautiful. I am sure we have some spectacular images. Anyway, I must get back to watching movies and enjoying my honeymoon. Thank you too all who made that day possible!

~Munchkin

I'll see all y'all tonight!

I'm so excited! Except my laptop is borked. But I'm excited anyways! *dances*

Death, Shoes, and Pants

I found this interesting article on MSN.com.

20 things you didn't know about death

Funny--I was just looking for information on the agonal phase for a book last week.

Q finally talked me into a pair of Danskos recently, and they are enormously comfortable. My poor connective tissues are finally giving in my feet, so I needed better arch support and something nice enough to pass at Munchkin's wedding and a professional work environment; I really needed them, but I'm still kicking myself over the cost. They were three times what I typically spend on a pair of shoes. More than our typical food budget for any given month. More than the energy bill and water bill combined.

And now Q has me set on another trendy pair that are white with poetry written on them. Maybe in six months...

Another first: today I walked into a clothing store alone and attempted to find myself black pants for work. I found a pair, but now I need someone to confirm that they actually fit me. I had the realization that I'm almost 25 and I still can't dress myself. Anyone who would like to dress me, please have at it; anyone who calls What Not to Wear will be shot on sight. I got a new, "professional" purse too. Cost of purse and pants: 1/4 cost of shoes (and as Mr. Q pointed out recently, cost of new oven: 4 pairs of shoes).

Good Lord, you'd think they'd be encrusted with rubies and able to teleport me home with a click of the heels for that price.

Alula

Not in my America.

Hey guys, I know this is a hot topic lately. I'm not sending this to any of you because I think you promote this behavior. I just saw it and needed to vent my frustrations with current events.

This video is a social experiment about gangs targeting Latino immigrants; of the 99 people that walked past three thugs beating a Latino man on the street (as they are shouting, because he doesn't speak English) 67 did nothing. The experiment was based on actual events where Latinos have been targeted and beaten to death on the streets.

http://abcnews.go.com/video/playerIndex?id=7107987

Let's all not be the 67 people who think this okay enough to not do a damn thing. Words are powerful. Don't promote messages of hate. This type of thing starts being okay when people talk about how much they hate "illegal wetback immigrants." Even if I can't change any minds, I'm not going to sit by and let people say things like this around me anymore, and hopefully not around anyone ignorant enough to pick up a baseball bat and "do something about it." I'm not saying people can't voice their frustration with the problem we are currently facing with illegal immigration in this country; I'm saying we need to stop the racial slurs and believing it's okay for someone to get beaten to death in the streets of America for not being a rightful citizen. We go all over the world stopping human rights violations because we are the United States; let's stop these violations here, too.

It's not okay with me that this is happening today. Our country has enough experience battling hate crimes that we should know them when we see them and realize that they're wrong.

Alula

Anniversary!

Hey Ladies,
Mr. Q is home, and yesterday was our one year anniversary. Yeah!
We went to mass then out to lunch with my aunt and uncle. We were planning on staying at home for a little while then going out for a dinner and perhaps a movie. Unfortunately I flopped down on our spear bed around 6 pm because Mr. Q was playing on his computer in there. At some point he curled up next to me and we woke up this morning at 6 am, fully dressed, in a full size bed. Good Anniversary! Were gonna extend our plans into today. We can't be known as the people that slept for 14 hours on our anniversary.

Happy Dance!

This was me in my living room:


I have been recommended for hire, and once I get my formal offer in the mail, I start next month!

Whoot!
Alula