A couple of you had politely mentioned on the first honeymoon post that you'd like to see the photos from the rest of the trip. This'll teach you to be polite again.
After our peaceful time spent on Vancouver Island, we headed back on the ferry to the city of Vancouver. I hadn't been since I was eight years old, in the summer of 1989, and I was eager to experience the city again as an adult.
It turns out I might not have been quite as prepared as I thought.
Last night we were watching the Redskins-Cowboys game when the Redskins quarterback made an unimpressive throw to a receiver.
"That was a horrible pass," the beau muttered to himself.
"You're a horrible pass," I immediately volleyed at him. I rely on this kind of juvenile humor all the time. It's instinct. Second nature. It's a small miracle, in fact, that I didn't actually turn it into a your Mom joke [see: "Your Mom's a horrible pass."].
Namely, go on honeymoon. And also get married. But mostly GO ON HONEYMOON.
I've been doing a lot of thinking lately about what we were doing at this time last year. Each new calendar day brings new memories, because the dates were so drilled into me during the planning process. On September 17th, I kept thinking about our last-minute wedding panics and the welcome barbecue. On the 18th, I thought of getting married. On the 19th, I thought of opening gifts and packing. On the 20th, I thought of leaving on a plane for the honeymoon. And so on. I'm certain these associations will fade over time. I'm certain even as early as next year, I'll see the calendar dates more as numbers and less as emotions. But for now, this year, it's like I'm walking through the experience all over again.
And the best part of the experience, of course, was when we got to leave the wedding shit behind for good and set off for Canada.
One year ago this past weekend, we hosted an awful welcome barbecue and then we went on to host a decent wedding. One year ago this past weekend, we got married.
How does one celebrate a wedding anniversary? What is one supposed to do? This was our first, you see, so there's bound to be some confusion. Some hesitation. Some Googling of what's considered appropriate behavior and norms. Some painting of faces and dashing around the house shrieking like loons.
Although in retrospect I'm not sure that last part actually had anything to do with planning our anniversary celebration per se.
I really doubted whether posting about babies right on the heels of Tuesday's post about babies was a good idea. I don't wish to alienate you, dear friends. I don't wish to make you cry in anxiety, or roll your eyes in scorn, or sigh in frustration, or click away in boredom. But my GOD. I have so much BABY inside me that I have to GET IT OUT. Which leads us nicely into:
HELLO! I have come to helplessly windmill my arms in your direction and whine about babies. Enjoy!
Title card: This is my brain. On babies.
I need to tell you something. I hate summer.
Here is where you jerk your head backwards in disbelief so powerfully that your monocle falls into your soup. Either that or your monocle goes flying across the room as you spray your soup all over your computer screen. Or maybe you sling your monocle out the window like a frisbee as you pour soup over your head and your computer screen explodes in slow-motion. Well, I never! Well, I say! I daresay, sir! you splutter haughtily.
Dude, man. I'm not a sir.
Listen, I hardly ever do this kind of thing, but I need to tell you about this dream I had this morning. So this fancy important lady tells me she wants me to write a cover article for People magazine, right? I mean, NO BIG SURPRISE THERE. And I am nervous, but I figure I can fake my way through this. And then she tells me that it's gonna be about Tom Hanks, and that I have to INTERVIEW Tom Hanks. And suddenly Tom Hanks is RIGHT THERE, but we can't interview then because I don't know why. And this dude steps in as kind of an intermediary, like maybe he's Tom's handler, and he pulls me aside to set up a time.
"Look," he says, "I'll level with you. Tom enjoys his marriage more than he enjoys having sex, so he wants to schedule this interview for one of the days he has sex. That means you can do, uh... January 26, January 31, or January 12."
