Part 3: The Big Day

Cheerful salutations, internet friends! I'm back from my brief honeymoon, and I've finally got enough time and brain-power on my hands to let y'all know what's up! 

This is going to be mostly pictures, because who cares about all those words anyways.

So, I got married last week. That was pretty cool. I know everyone talks about it being "the best day of your life" and all that good stuff, and frankly... It was a pretty good day, but it went by really fast. From the very first second I woke up, it was like I was being dragged along by a giant whirlwind.

 Wake up, brush teeth, comb hair, shower. Get dressed, shoes on, get in the car.

 Dry hair, straighten hair, curl hair, pin hair. 

 Curl hair, pin hair... curl... pin pin pin...

Go home, more pictures, get packed, gather for the wedding, makeup.

 In the car, drive to the temple, get dressed.

And then... get married.

The whole day, everything had been moving so fast. My brain barely had time to process what was going on before I was whisked off to the next thing. But in that moment, it was like time came to a screeching halt. 

The sealer said "You can look at me, or you can look at each other." 

 I think it seems obvious what our choice was.

 After that little second that seemed to last forever, everything picked up again. the whirlwind whisked me away again, but it was alright this time, because it picked up Daniel as well. Things may have moved really fast, but at least after that I had something stable to cling to.

As overwhelming as everything was, it turned out to be a pretty perfect day, between the wedding, the dinner, the reception, etc.

Oh, right. Mostly perfect...

And... uh... I was going to find a creative way to somehow incorporate more pictures from our wedding into this post, as well as probably more words, but that just about sums it up. It was a good day, but even better than that has been... every single day since. I love being married to Dan. It's the greatest. Here's some more pictures of our wedding day.

This very flattering picture captures the moment just as Daniel and I walked out of the temple for the first time as a married couple, and he put his arm around me aaaaand... pulled my veil right out of my hair. This is me fixing it in a very dignified and graceful manner.

 

Here we are being super cute and adorable.

Look how happy and in love we are! And look how handsome my man is. Quite. Quite handsome. 

Aaaaaand... this is me making life difficult for our photographer.

The end. For now.

Stay tuned for more marriage-related posts! I've got a really good, semi-controversial pile o' words in the works. And drawings, of course. Those too. 

Pretend This Is A Clever Title

Once upon a time, it was a little while ago, and I was getting my hair done for three hours, in order to prepare for my wedding. Three hours of getting your hair done gives you time to think, and I was thinking, I pondered upon the fact that my dear fiance was not planning on having any sort of bachelor party because a good portion of his closest man-friends have left town for the summer. I decided that he deserved a party, seeing as how he has been working so hard lately. Therefore, I took it upon myself to remotely orchestrate a surprise bachelor party for my gentleman friend.

After some contacting and organizing, I managed to scrape together a few bros to surprise him. They suggested some sort of... pizza... laser tag... dress-him-up-like-a-wizard party. I dunno what goes on at these man-things. 

Today was the night of the party, and he went over to one of his buddies' houses expecting everything to be normal. But instead they surprised him with pizza and parties and even one of his distant bros partying via video chat! Yay! I, on the other hand, had planned to spend the night sorting and packing all my crap to move into our new apartment by the end of the week.

The more I sat alone in my room, thinking of him out partying with his friends while I slaved away, the grumpier I got. My family was gone, and I was all alone with no one for companionship but stupid Teddi, and she's fat and she sucks. I turned to drawing to scribble out my feelings. 

I started out drawing pictures of how grumpy and alone I was, and the more I drew, the grumpier I got. Plus stupid fat Teddi kept sticking her stupid tail in my face and messing up my drawings. Doodling really helps me express my feelings and stuff, because when you draw something you have to concentrate on every swoosh and line and squiggle to express the idea you're picturing in your head. Then I actually stopped and took a look at my drawings, and the attitude they were expressing, and I remembered... Daniel was out partying without me because I wanted him to. I wanted to do something nice for him and I wanted him to have a good time. 

 I decided that I didn't need to draw grouchy pictures to make myself feel better, I just needed to remember that knowing Daniel is happy is enough to make me happy. And I should stop being a horrible person.

I think it's important for all of us to remember that if we're unhappy about something, it doesn't mean no one else is allowed to be happy. Sometimes, the best happiness comes from doing something nice for someone else.

On That Note...

So there you have it, faithful readers. Completely against all previous plans or predictions I could have made even seven months ago, I shall be wed in three days' time. As naturally follows, there will be a buttload of photos and probably lots of words talking about my matrimony and the unique challenges and interesting situations that follow as a result thereof, so hopefully I'll be a better blogger soon. 

I'm excited! Y'all should be too!

Also, on another related note, Daniel insists that my handwriting is impossible to read! He has no room to talk because he is left-handed, and also a man, but can you guys read my scrawl ok? I can, but that's because I'm also an expert cryptographer in my spare time. For realsies though, let me know if you can or can not understand my scribblings upon sticky notes.

Professional Artwork

By professional, I mean... I make art... While getting paid. I suppose if you wanted to get super technical, you could argue that doodling on post-its is not technically what I'm being paid FOR, but there's no need to split hairs. So, with no further ado and also no further explanation, here is a collection of post-it drawings I have made over the course of my illustrious cubicle-sitting career:

Wait for it...

There's a big awesome post coming, you guys. Promise. You will note that there is a fancy new addition to my blog here on the right hand side of the screen... Or just right, for those of you without hands.

Right there.

At the top.

It's black and white and yellow.

(gestures to the right)

Yes, that.

Once that countdown reaches zero, I'll probably disappear from the internet for a few days. Then I promise I'll blog the crap out of everything. But before then, I've got no time and no brain power for being as hilarious and insightful as I'd like... For those of you that enjoy my words and also photographs with grainy filters, I've caved and gotten an Instagram account, and you can follow me (jacquelineada). Feel free to enjoy my crappy phone pictures and limited-character observations of the world. Maybe I'll even get a Twitter, if I'm feeling adventurous! (lololol, I'm not gonna get a Twitter)

In the meantime, I'll try to get some little posts out to keep y'all entertained!

Keep checking in for updates and so I can feel important when I look at my blog stats...

Peace.

Part 2: The Best Day

...so far.

Ladies and gents, allow me to introduce to you the most favorite Friend of Nigel (Hamster-God rest his soul):

This is Daniel. He's in soft focus because he's too awesome for regular style cartoon drawings. Daniel and I met... in the past... at some point... (we don't really remember when). We've been friends for nigh unto three years now, and about half a year ago we decided there was no good reason why we shouldn't be dating. 

After a couple of dates, things were going pretty ok, but we had one major difference, and that was that we had very different ideas where we were going in our lives. Then one day after we'd been dating for a couple of weeks, Daniel and I were in his car and he said to me, "Well, things are going spectacularly so far, and as far as I can see, we have about three options. One: we can just break up right this moment, call it square and remember the good times. Two: we can keep dating, but somewhere down the road, our differences are going to cause us some degree of difficulty, and we'll be forced to end it anyways, and it will be horrible and tragic because we've gotten attached to each other. Three: one of us can change our minds, and we could get married." 

At which point, my reaction was somewhere along these lines...

After recovering from my crippling attack of gamophobia, I decided that I really liked his dimples, so the conclusion was that we would stick it out and see where it led. The subject of long-term commitment would come up every now and again, and my feelings on the matter were generally the same. Every conversation ended with me trying to decide what would happen if I just got in my car and drove until I ran out of gas or something. I really wasn't that accustomed to the idea of staying with someone for longer than the amount of time it took me to become bored of a TV show, and just thinking about it filled me with with so much panic, I think my organs actually shut down a couple times.

He said to me once, over milkshakes, "You know, I think if things were a little different, it would pretty much be Game Over. I mean, you're the girl I want to marry." Fun fact about this particular occasion (although I may be wrong and if I am I'm sure I'll hear from him later), but when he said that, he hadn't even decided that he was comfortable enough in our relationship to tell me that he loved me. But he planned to marry me. Or at least, someone exactly like me but with slightly different qualifications.

Now... some of you may remember an earlier post of mine about my feelings in regards to dating and courtship, and I can tell you right now that I feel quite sorry for poor Daniel and everything he's had to put up with over the course of our relationship. But he did, in fact, manage to survive those first few months, despite his apparent efforts to turn me into a total basket case.

And one day, as we were sitting in Costa Vida in the middle of the day making fun of the weirdos that are at Costa Vida in the middle of the day, Daniel said these words:

"You know... I think we could make it work. Like... financially."

And I foolishly said, "Make what work?" Thinking maybe he had some sort of heist or perhaps business venture in mind.

And he said, "Well I mean, I own my truck, and you've got your car, and your job has pretty good insurance and you make good money, and I'll be done with college in a couple of years, and (words words words, he went on for a while), and I just think that we could probably pull off getting married with the way things are right now."

And I heard the following words come out of my mouth, albeit a bit strangled and squeaky:

"Y...yeah, I guess you're right."

It was at this point that I officially abandoned reality and resolved to live in the woods forever, because in no universe I was part of would I agree to wed, and definitely not at 20 years of age. Fortunately for Daniel, I realized that I had to work that day, so I couldn't run away forever. And my shift gave me enough time to step back from the edge and realize that marrying Daniel would be the opposite of the end of the world. 

So fast forward a while. A couple of months, I would think. Now it's The Worst Day. 

I was a complete devastated mess. And on top of that, I hadn't seen Daniel that whole day because he was busy with work and school and whatever other nonsense gentlemen of his age get themselves up to. And the next day he was too busy again, and then the day after that he had some time, but he insisted on going to my house rather than us going back to his. And the next day, it was Valentine's Day. 

We had both been so busy, we hadn't really managed to make real plans for our first Valentine's together. Daniel had told me a few days before that he made reservations at Olive Garden for us, which was clever, because no way are you going to get a table if you walk into Olive Garden on the night of Valentine's.

I got home from work that night, and had to talk myself out of eating food, because we were getting dinner. So naturally, by the time Daniel called, I was starving.

"I'll be there in about 20 minutes," he said, "I know it's a little late, but I checked and they can hold our reservation."

"Ok, sounds good," I said, silently weeping tears of starvation.

When he came to pick me up a few minutes later, I jumped into his truck, all excited to go, and he said to me, "Do you mind if we stop by my house? I have a gift certificate for our dinner there, but I left it at home and haven't had a chance to go pick it up."

"Sure thing," I said, and died a little inside.

I had a hilarious story that I wanted to tell his parents, so I wasn't too sad about going by his house for a bit.

As we pulled up, I saw that his father's truck wasn't there, so I was a little disappointed. But that was ok, it meant we could be in and out and to food in no time!

We walked in the door, and I was greeted with the following sight and the sound of romantic music:

My first impression, being unaccustomed to such awesomeness on the part of boyfriends, was that we had inadvertently stumbled into someone else's Valentine. I instinctively tried to creep backward out the door, but Daniel nudged me in and presented me with daisies (my most favorite flower). It was then that I realized the whole setup was for me, and in awe of the presentation, I uttered the first phrase that came to my mind...

Then I turned and realized that he was doing the whole one-knee thing, and he said something terrifically romantic like "Uh, hmm. I hadn't really thought what I was going to say... this is... weird... Will you let me make you happy forever? Or something?"

"Yes of course I will marry you," I said, "Now can we eat food?"

And scene.

Anywho, there you have it ladies and gents! I, your friendly neighborhood infrequent blogger, am getting married and stuff! In lieu of presents, please send gifts. Or just cash is cool too. 

In summation, here is a reference guide for all the best things about my groom-to-be, just in case you neglected to appreciate his full magnificence.

1. His terrific pointy hair, which my mother mocks constantly, but which I think is quite cool and manly and stuff.

2. He has grand eyebrows. Which is a thing... I just really like his eyebrows. Stop judging me.

3. Even though in this picture, his eyeballs are just scribbly black ovals, in real life they are a lovely blue. Which means our children will almost certainly have blue eyes.

4. That arrow may look like it is also pointing to his hair, but it's actually pointing to his brain. Which is inside his head, where a proper brain should be. It's much smarter than mine. 

5. His little scruffy beard is another point of ridicule from my mother, but I appreciate a man that can grow any sort of facial hair and not look like a total douche.

6. One of my most favorite characteristics is his adorable dimples! Pretty much that's what attracted me to him in the first place. He should be grateful for those dimples. They've saved his butt many times.

7. He doesn't think so, but his arms are pretty freakin' buff. And I like his muscles. Even if he doesn't think he has any. Which he does. 

8. He can pull off purple really well.

And guys... this is the only time I will ever admit this on the internet, but I figure it should be said. Should anyone ever come under the impression that I don't love him more than all of the things in the world combined, allow me to dissuade you of that notion. I adore this man in all the grossest ways you could ever think of. It's like... all the chick flicks ever, except that I'm not a vapid moron, and I have control of all my faculties, and I still love him that much. I realize I'm not a super affectionate person all the time in public, and I most definitely tease and joke about not wanting to get married, but it's the one decision in my life I have ever been absolutely, 100% sure about. If you ever hear me make a crack about relationships and such, realize that I'm crazy for this dude, but I've got to keep up comedic appearances. It's all part of the job. 

Here's a gross picture of us to prove my affection:

Ugh. Look how happy we are. Nasty.