Six months married today, so yeah, I can officially say that I know everything. Mostly I’ve been struck by the values of patience, compromise, and listening. But even more mostly, I am blown away basically every day by Morrison’s ability to handle my madness when I overload myself and short circuit, how he can not only calm me down but also, how quickly he can get me (us) to the place of laughing at the absurdity of whatever the situation. If it’s not funny at its core, WHY EVEN LIVE IT AT ALL?
My absolute favorite woman on TV is actually played by a man and after a few minutes of watching, you don’t even notice anymore.
In Baskets, (Zach Galifianakis’ FX show about the home life of a failed clown) Louie Anderson plays Christine Baskets, a mom whose happy place is Costco, who struggles with both weight and how to raise her kids somewhere between love love and tough love, who tries water aerobics, for her health.
Season two in particular, every moment she’s on screen is so rich and heartbreaking and real that you literally don’t even think about Louie underneath. There is Christine, and only Christine, with a humor so specific it’s like you’re on line with her at Costco while she compliments your hair cut and muses about her childhood and coupons and then asks you about the contents of your shopping cart. There is only Christine and her draped blazers and her hats, and her tugging on her hair around it.
BEYONCE, WE WILL HUMBLY RECEIVE YOUR LINE OF CASUAL MATERNITY WEAR WHENEVER YOU ARE READY. It will be worn by both pregnant and not pregnant women, and probably also some men. Those who are not actually pregnant will strap watermelons to their bodies so that they might fill them out. I will sleep in the nightgown that it took 50 people and 7 days to embroider. I will wear the headpiece to Trader Joes. PLEASE JUST GIVE IT TO US.
While these beautiful people did not necessarily win the golden prize:
Fun was, in fact, had by all, writers included. We got to gussy up:
And stumble around the giant mall slash famous people prom,
In a beautiful evening that Morrison Keddie, love of my life for his honesty and instantaneous handsomeness, described as ’85% annoying.’
Today, on the wedding pictures are so plentiful that I look at them for a few minutes a day and put some of them here so I can feel slightly less overwhelmed by the number of them and then move on to other tasks: HERE ARE SOME MORE.
I just. I love these girls. Oh man. The fact that you surround yourself with your favorite ladies and eat your favorite snacks they’re all wearing the flannels you gave them and you all get dolled up and then these gals you love surround you and button your butt buttons and someone is there to take pictures of it so you never forget it is REASON ENOUGH TO GET MARRIED.
WE GOT OUR WEDDING PICTURES! They are lovely. As hard as it is to look at 900 pictures of yourself and marvel at how even in a stunning gown you can manage to look like an evil badger baby, I STILL love them. The moments are perfectly captured. We were so stupid happy that day and the pictures will forever show it. There are so many that I do not even know what to do with them. I think I will just stretch the process out, keep the feeling new and real, and just drop them like tiny love bombs whenever I feel like it. Starting with these! I present to you, the moment after Morrison and I first saw each other, hugged and cried, and then I promptly made him look at my butt, my exact words being, LOOK AT MY BUTT!
OH SO YOU THOUGHT I WAS DONE WITH WEDDING TALK? NO MA’AM. I have a head cold that just won’t quit and stress and fatigue just in general, but what I also have is THIS MOMENT WHEN I HID IN AN OFFICE WITH MY BRIDESMAIDS BEFORE WALKING UP THE AISLE, SIPPING TEQUILA AND SHOVING PEANUT M&Ms AND GOLDFISH CRACKERS INTO MY FACE AND I NEVER FELT SO BEAUTIFUL.
Oh, did you want content UNRELATED to the beautiful weekend / life experience I just had? Feel free to check back in approximately one year once I’ve come back down. I have every intention of slowly trotting out memories and moments here so that I continue to fully remember every moment of it. It’s still kind of a blur, even though apparently, I’ve been informed that the moonshine at the reception in fact made me stomp around shouting to people, I FEEL SO PRESENT! And so today, on the Wedding, the train of my dress — pictured here with my Grandma’s mink:
It was long. Like epic long. When I got the dress I knew it was slightly impractical, being that the ceremony was in the grass under a tree, and that the reception was in a horse stable. But I loved its fairy queen-ness AND its impracticality. But after the I do’s and pictures, the best feeling ever was just LETTING THE THING GO AND DRAG THROUGH THE DIRT.
There is something amazing about getting very dressed up and then letting it all go. It felt so freeing. The release of tension, literal and figurative.
THAT TIME YOU GET HOME FROM THE GYM TO FIND THAT YOUR WEDDING DRESS HAS ARRIVED AND IS JUST SITTING THERE IN A BIG BOX AND WELL, THERE IT IS, IT’S REAL
THIS JUST IN, I OFFICIALLY HAVE A WEDDING DRESS! It arrived in NYC from Hungary, and is now en route to LA, which means it’s now time for my worryholder, read: my brain, to start concocting absurd scenarios re: what might happen to it. A few favorites:
- it will get lost (basic.)
- a dress thief which is a thing will steal it.
- (obviously) the plane carrying the dress will crash into a house. Or just a car. Maybe a car next to a house.
- Someone who hates me has been lying in wait for years trying to figure out a way to get back at me for something I did to hurt them that I don’t even remember. They select this as that moment. They intercept my dress, cover it with dirt, and start the dress its own instagram, in which they take the dress all over the world, sullying it, never quite showing me where it is.
- IT NEVER ARRIVES / I HAVE DREAMT THE WHOLE THING
- MY WHOLE LIFE HAS BEEN A DREAM
- I WAKE UP IN THE MATRIX
- I PULL THE CORDS FROM MY HEAD, ASK TO SEE MY WEDDING DRESS
- I AM TOLD THERE IS NO LONGER NO SUCH THING AS DRESSES