Trois Ans

Three years ago today, we stood on a gorgeous, sweltering beach in Punta Cana, and promised to "Give it to each other every day." (We realized later that Maria, our translator, had said "Giveth." But either works, right?)

We danced wildly all night long. Everyone was soaked with sweat. It was an excellent party. (And I damn good playlist!)

We ordered pizza at 2 AM, and chatted drunkenly in our honeymoon suite. We had done it! Married at last! We were finally able to relax and enjoy a few more days of vacation with great friends and family.

When we decided to partner up, we agreed to never become complacent. To strive. To encourage. To keep reaching, bettering, becoming.

We saw the pyramids at Giza; the hidden city at Petra. We visited the final resting place of Eva Peron in Buenos Aires. We conquered the suspect "Barbeque for 2" at a Montevideo parilla. We lounged on the white sand beaches of Turks and Caicos.

On top of the (ancient) world.

You earned a Master's degree!


We conceived and birthed a babe, who has morphed into an energetic, constantly-dancing, book-lovin', curly mullet-headed little boy.

We made him! Well done!


Oh, and then there was that 1500-mile move to Texas! And living apart, and selling our home, and flying to and fro with a 9 month-old. And buying our first home together; and attempting to refurbish and furnish it, and create a whole new social network in the Southwest, whilst keeping in close touch with those we already know and love.

One job gained, one job lost. One Master's degree attained, one (possibly two) just getting under way. One child birthed. One house bought, one house sold. One huge move.

Do we know how to keep is fresh or what?

And here we are, and here we'll stay, cultivating happiness.

I love you, Kins.

(And since there is no video montage this year - because I just did one for Hank's birthday, and there are approximately two photographs of the two of us together this year, and I am chubby in both - here is a little look back, at thinner times.)

Year 1:

Create your own video slideshow at animoto.com.

Year 2:

Create your own video slideshow at animoto.com.

Jean.

I bought a dress.

(Or, more accurately: thank you, Mama!)

I had The Dress picked out after our New York shopping spree, but hemmed and hawed and stalled because I didn't actually want to make a decision. That would be so... final.

Last week I pushed my reservations aside and told my mom I wanted the damn dress already. She suggested we visit one more bridal shop.

And unbelievably, there was The Dress. Not perfect, as it is in desperate need of some sequin removal (Why? Every damn dress with the sparkles!) and some button changing, but so help me God, I could envision the final product. And it was good.

Of course I can't show it to you until after July, but let me give you some idea of what we're dealing with. Here is what I wanted:

I am slightly obsessed with late Carolyn Bessette Kennedy's style, as my tastes lend more towards simple, elegant, and classic. (Also, my late grandma Mildred was similarly obsessed. She had ripped this photo from a magazine and hung it on her bedroom wall and frequently exclaimed, "Melissa! You look like just like the Kennedy wife!" Quite.)

Unfortunately, I am not as slender, nor as tall, as the statuesque Carolyn. So the dress I selected? Shares several elements with this stunning Narciso Rodriguez, but suits my feminine 40-inch hips. (I blame the booty, as my waist is small and my curves are kickin'. J is very much on board.)

It also has a decidedly old Hollywood feel, with rich, curve-hugging fabric. My mother remarked that it evoked Jean Harlow, which is fitting as I used to tell people she chose my middle name (Jean) based on the platinum haired "blonde bombshell"; until one day she overheard me recounting this story and interrupted with: "What the hell, Melissa? I named you after Jean Haggerty! She was a girl I really admired in high school."

Totally sticking with my version, by the way.

(Carolyn's middle name? Also Jeanne. Coincidence?)

The Extent of the Crazy

Have just decided that I will no longer speak of this wedding to anyone, save J. So if you see me, and you dare inquire, "So, how are the wedding plans coming? Have you picked a place yet?"

I will grin maniacally and say only: "I'm right on top of that, Rose!"

Then I will back away from you slowly, still grinning.

Carry on.

So Tired

A long, long time ago, before I was betrothed, Grace and I met the creator of this website at the Beer Garden. He is/was a struggling stand-up comedian (though it looks like he is warming up audiences at The View now, so that's uh, really something).

He made an off-color Terry Schiavo quip early in our conversation, which was most decidedly not funny, but prompted Grace and I to refer to him only as "Schiavo" and shudder at the memory of his joke.

I digress. He was quite proud of his anti-wedding website creation, and he had many one-liners to assert his singular claim that nuptials, plainly, suck.

My point here? "Schiavo" got it right. I hate weddings. They are Giant Looming Purveyors Of Stress And Strife. And They Must Be Stopped.

*Shakes fist; looks up at sky*

That is all.

*sobs*